Orexis
by The Smashlee
Summary: After a stay in the hospital Sasuke struggles to find his place back at home. Nobody seems to trust him anymore, has he really recovered? Now a story consisting of one-shots, eating disorders, shounen-ai. NaruSasu. Finished.
1. No Good Deed

**A/N:** Sequel to Leptos, set roughly two weeks after Leptos. Still unbeta'd. Don't kill me. Was originally supposed to be a one-shot but I just got so damn long…

**Warnings:** Two-shot, deals with eating disorders, MentallyIll!Sasuke, contains mentions of shounen-ai.

* * *

**Orexis**

_57…_

_58…_

_59…_

_60…_

Breathing heavily, I let my upper body hit the carpet with a loud thud and dropped my arms to my side. I looked up at the white ceiling, my chest rising up and down. I winced slightly at the red hot pain in my abdominal muscles.

I wondered vaguely whether or not I should be doing this already. Whether or not I was normal for doing this.

I'd been released from the hospital this morning; the doctors satisfied that I had gained a decent amount of weight, the dieticians happy with the food plan they'd made with me, the shrinks content with my _positive attitude towards "recovery"._ Despite my protests against being healthy of both body and mind, here I was, exercising like never before to lose the weight I'd put back on.

During my time in the _eating disorder_ unit, there had been no mirrors, no time for exercise, no privacy. Nurses were a constant and became a factor of life in the ward. I was unable to exercise for their vigilant watch and fear of having more liberties taken away. Every time I needed to go to the bathroom, I needed to be escorted, a nurse taking me and listening in to my "activities" to ensure I wasn't purging. If it was bad before, then I'd made it worse.

Furious at my predicament and the fact that I was being made to gain weight because they were _ruining_ everything that I'd put my blood, sweat and tears into for months, I'd started nicking holes into the drip. I'd hated it with a fiery passion.

Once the nurses had found out that I'd sabotaged the drip the white dress security was upped and privacy became a foreign concept.

Pushing my bangs away from my sweaty face I sat and crawled my way over to my bed. I wanted to rest before my next round of sit-ups to ease the aching of my muscles. Being unable to exercise for so long had left me much less fit than I had been before the hospital - Another thing that made me angry. These people had rendered everything I'd done useless, and what for?

Pulling my sheet up to my chin, I sighed shakily, my eyelids drooping slightly as a heavy tiredness set in. At the back of my mind I knew, logically, they'd only meant to help me stop what they'd perceived as dangerous behaviour, but I didn't need help. I needed to do this.

I looked over at my clock. A few minutes past 7 o'clock. After Itachi had picked me up this morning, he'd dropped me off and gone straight to work. I knew that he had wanted to stay behind and made sure I'd eaten, being it my first day back home and all, but time was money and my brother was pushing the limit with taking time off work. But I'd been given the obligatory _You'd- better-have-eaten-by-the-time-I-get-home_ speech and the stern _I-will-make-sure_ look, which, for Itachi, would have to suffice.

I felt bad that he took off so much time from work to visit me at the hospital. I knew he didn't have to and he shouldn't have had to.

Whatever I was feeling, it was a welcome relief to finally be by myself for longer than half an hour.

Ever since I'd been back I'd avoided the mirror (and the kitchen) and started exercising, trying to undo everything that had been done.

The doctors had said upon my release that I was at a _satisfactory weight_. And that irritated me to no end, I wasn't stupid. I could _see_ the fat in rolls on my stomach, my face felt fuller and my thighs had returned to their grotesque size that I had pained to get rid of. There was nothing satisfactory about it.

I closed my eyes and made myself more comfortable in the bed, throwing my doona over my rapidly cooling body. I was pleased with my efforts for now. I'd just rest for a few minutes. My body was screaming for me to take a minute of rest, I was tired. Just for a few minutes.

* * *

What was _supposed_ to have been a few minutes ended up being just under 12 hours. I berated myself silently, thinking back to this morning after being woken up by the shrill screech of my alarm, having unintentionally fallen asleep the evening before.

Slamming my locker shut and gathering my Biology textbooks in my arms, I headed off down the hall towards my classroom. Watching the scurrying and scampering of the students trying to get to their classes was like watching frightened animals try and escape from danger. They ran, they bumped, they stumbled, and they fell. For such a 'highly evolved' species we were strikingly similar to what we thought were lesser beings. It would seem that despite having been away for a while it was as if nothing had changed. A good thing.

"Hey, Uchiha Sasuke!"

I turned my head in the direction of the voice calling me, drawing my attention away from the others. A boy with a bowl cut and blinding white teeth bounded his way towards me with ease, the students around him parting like the red sea.

I tried to keep my grimace to a minimum.

"Lee."

Now, for all intents and purposes Lee was a nice guy, a loyal friend, but he was an impossible morning person. While some people, namely myself, required at _least_ two coffees and a cold shower to just stay awake before noon, Lee was a boundless source of pep from the moment he woke. An energetic Lee and a 9 AM Biology lesson were pushing it. I needed coffee.

"I haven't seen you around lately! Gaara said you weren't feeling well?" He asked curiously, coming up to walk beside me. I pondered upon his meaning behind _Gaara said you weren't feeling well_. What exactly had been said? How much did I want people to know? Not much, ideally.

Looking at him in the corner of my eye, he looked innocent enough, of course he was, Lee wasn't a malicious person. I suddenly felt very grateful for Gaaras' ability to tell the truth without telling the whole truth.

Reaching my classroom, I reached for the door handle and nodded.

"I was sick," I conceded tonelessly, trying to subtly hint that I needed to get into class by edging closer to the door. I _hadn't_ been sick in the usual sense of the word, but it was the only plausible story that was consistent with both Gaaras' story and the fact that I'd been in the hospital. And at this I felt a little bit of dread creep in at the thought of facing the other students.

How many people knew how much? Being from _"that family"_ already gave me enough stares, the last thing I needed was "_oh that's that anorexic guy"_. The gossip mill in high school was worse than a weekly entertainment magazine.

Nonetheless, Lee raised a hand in goodbye.

"Well you're looking much healthier now. Goodbye Uchiha Sasuke!"

And he was off, trying to beat the bell to the gym.

Sighing, I pushed down the dread that was building up in my stomach and entered the classroom. I didn't particularly feel any joy at facing my fellow classmates and pretending that I didn't notice the burn of their eyes on me, but nonetheless I kept my head up and forward. Upholding my composure. _There's nothing wrong, there's nothing wrong. Everything has been and is normal._

Out of my peripheral vision I could see a familiar head of red hair and a bored face that never seemed to change.

Sitting down next to the red heat, I plunked my textbooks onto the table. I didn't know how awkward things were going to be or if they would be that way at all. Gaara was smart and more importantly quiet. He was probably my best bet for normality. An ironic thought, as Gaara was the strangest person I knew.

"…Gaara."

"…Sasuke."

* * *

My brain hurt. Two hours of the finer details of photosynthesis followed by an extra two hours of the ins and outs of The French revolution was overload. Way too much information, so little time to process.

Stepping out of my classroom and into the wild jungle that was the school corridors any thoughts of chlorophyll melted into green ooze as I joined the swarm of students. The pitter-patter of footsteps and the fervent chatter morphed into a dull hum, grown boys and girls sounding like buzzing bees.

Listening to the noises, I tried not to think too much about the looming period of time between 12:50 and 1:30. Lunch. Dread. It's fine.

I'd never before dreaded lunch like I had today. Before the hospital when everything was fine and everyone _thought_ I was fine, it had been easy to be like the others. No one noticed or cared if you only ate half your sandwich, forgot to bring your lunch, or sipped only on your diet coke. The plausible lies and deceptions that could be told and swallowed were endless. It had been easy before.

I had no doubt that I would now be under the watchful eyes of my friends, classmates, fellow prisoners, whatever you wanted to call them. Visiting my room at the hospital, calling on the phone, visiting my house, it had been called caring. I called it being a pain in the ass. I didn't need to be spoon-fed by the people who were supposed to be my peers. I felt a sense of dismay at being watched like an animal in every part of my life.

Slinging my bag strap over my shoulder I walked resignedly to my destination: The Cafeteria. Because everything was normal. And I was "recovered". And I was normal. That's why I was going and that's why I was going to sit down and be normal with my normal friends and classmates. Because nothing was wrong. Yes.

Seeing Kiba and Neji (always so prompt) at the "usual" table, I headed towards it and sat myself down, sitting opposite the two boys. I tapped my fingers on my knee anxiously, although I shouldn't really be anxious. The boy with the wild and dark hair took in my appearance, looking surprised to see me.

"Hey, Uchiha - "(_we weren't the greatest of friends_)- "long time no see!" With this the boy, leaned over the table and clapped me heartily on the back, grinning toothily.

Unfazed by his awkward show of affection but relieved at his warm greeting all the same, I raised an eyebrow and grabbed my apple from my bag, muttering a "_Hey"_ in reply, but he was already off hollering at someone across the room. Bored and familiar with such antics I studied my apple. Green. Round. Firm. 75 calories.

"How are you Sasuke?" Neji. Always sounding so polite, yet speaking as if he knew something no one else did. Of course he knew something. My unfounded paranoia would have me believe that everybody knew.

I knew it sounded irrational, but it was a thought, a feeling that I couldn't ignore. I could feel the eyes of everyone. Their whispers of schoolyard gossip became jeers and taunts. Their giggles became snickering and laughter was targeted directly at me. At least in my mind anyway. Somewhere I knew it was ridiculous, but it was small.

"Fine. And yourself?"

Neji nodded, clasping his hands together. Perfect posture. Although calculating and a quiet guy, Neji was an old family friend. Our families had known each other forever.

"Not too bad, thank you. Got much work to catch up on?"

An arm thrown around my shoulders and a body slamming itself next to mine abruptly interrupted any answer I was about to give. Frowning at being caught off guard, I gingerly plucked the arm from my shoulders and released it none-too gently. I glared at the idiot with no sense of personal space.

"Sasuke! You're back!" came the loud voice in my ear and the beaming face just inches from mine. Predictable Naruto who was anything but predictable. A paradox within himself. Relinquishing my hold on my apple I pushed his face away and increased the intensity of my glare.

"Clearly."

As if to spit in the face of my efforts of pushing him away Naruto threw his arm around my shoulders again and ruffled up my hair, grinning as he did so. Shoving him hard enough to get him off me, muttering about Blond Idiots as I did so, I fixed my hair, ignoring the chorus of laughs that came from the table. Shikamaru, Gaara and Chouji had joined us. They had Physics together, their teacher finding sadistic pleasure in grilling them until the last minute of class. Physics was death in the form of a school subject.

Satisfied that my mop didn't literally look like a mop, I scowled at Naruto and picked up my apple again. I wasn't really pissed off at him; in fact this wasn't particularly different from our normal lunchtime antics. He'd throw food at me, I'd hurt him, he'd throw meat atmy _food_, I'd hurt him, He'd tackle me, I'd hurt him…_This_ was normal. This was easy for everyone, no awkwardness. An easy path into the routine I wanted.

I chewed absentmindedly on my apple, listening to the conversation that had started between Naruto and Kiba, previous actions forgotten.

"…And so he asked, _'Did you do last nights homework questions, Naruto?'_" The teen continued, putting on a deep voice in a poor impersonation of his teacher. He emphasized his character by wiggling his eyebrows up and down in a ridiculous manner, earning him some snorts from the members of the table.

" And I was like _'What, after working 5 hours and studying for today's History test?'_ I mean shit, half the time I think they think we don't have other classes!"

"Yeah, no kidding man," Kiba replied, picking his teeth with a sharp fingernail "Kurenai gave us an assignment two days ago and wants it done tomorrow. Crazy talk."

"Damn straight," came the lazy slur from the other end of the table. Shikamaru lifted his head up from his folded arms and rubbed his eyes. I'd never met somebody in my life that was such a sloth. Loyal and strangely loveable, Shikamaru was a good friend. Just hopelessly lazy, that's all.

Taking another bite of my apple, I nodded along with their sentiments. The pressure from school was incredible and everyone felt it. I put my elbow on the table, resting my head in my hand. I inspected the apple for any bruises I may have missed, just in case it needed thrown out. I kind of wanted to throw it out. But 75 calories would be okay, right?

"I feel sorry for _you_, Sasuke."

Looking up, Chouji was talking to me through a mouthful of potato chips. What did _that_ comment mean?

"Why's that?" Stoic.

"Well, I mean you've got like 2 weeks worth of work to catch up on. That's gotta suck."

I shrugged, relieved (_stop being so paranoid idiot_). "Can't do much about it. It'd be good to get it out the way though." I again bit my apple. Chouji just nodded and like myself, returned to his food. I looked around at my tired and sluggish friends - Post class brain meltdown was settling in.

Suddenly, breaking the silence, Naruto sneezed. I grimaced and shimmied a good foot away from him, crinkling my nose in his direction. Yuck.

"You're not _sick_ are you?" I asked, my voice laden with distaste**.** I waved my hand in front of me as if there was a bad smell, attempting to avert the course of his potential sickness away from me. Naruto looked offended.

"It's just a cold! I don't have _AIDS_." he sniffed, pouting like a child scolded. "Woman," he added as an afterthought.

I didn't care. I made a disgusted face and maintained my distance, putting my school bag between us as a (terrible) barrier. "I don't care. Don't give me your germs."

Naruto just grinned, similarly uncaring. He shuffled his bum closer towards me, holding out his arms and making kissy faces.

"Aww, c'mon Sasuke, where's the love?"

"Touch me and I'll break your face," I warned, narrowing my eyes at him in a fierce glare. The group laughed at our behavior and I rolled my eyes. We were not sunshine and daisies but it was all in good fun. Despite our ups and downs and no matter whether we were friends, lovers or bitter rivals we'd known each other too long. Our bond had yet to be broken. Amazingly so, actually. There was a lot of bad blood behind us. I often found it strange we weren't enemies.

"You wouldn't do that to me, " he countered, "You'd break a nail." And finishing with that argument he stuck out his tongue. Always the mature one that Naruto.

"Idiot." Biting off the last of my apple, I chucked the remaining core in a rubbish bin a few feet away from me. It went in. Perfect aim Sasuke, perfect aim.

Kiba and Chouji were laughing at something new and Gaara looked confused. I raised an eyebrow at the red head, trying to keep up with the rapid pace of lunchtime conversation. _What's so funny?_ He raised his in return. _I wouldn't have the foggiest._

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Naruto staring at me, a frown on his features. I knew what he was frowning about and it pissed me off. As _unwelcome_ as his presence was during those first few days at the hospital Naruto had made it his personal mission to monitor my progress and be as inspiring as possible. And when I say inspiring I mean irritating and infuriating. The ED unit didn't need cheerleaders. I frowned at the fact he was making what I put into my mouth his business.

I didn't acknowledge that I knew he was staring though. I wasn't happy with it but I didn't need to get into a conversation about this. Not here. Not now. Probably not ever. I saw how my friends were dancing around the issue of the reason for my absence, how their eyes would flicker briefly to me, watching me eat. A subject too early to get into, a _sensitive_ subject they must have supposed. _It is_, I thought to myself bitterly, but they didn't have to know that. They weren't supposed to know. If it were up to me none of this would have happened.

I suddenly felt very annoyed. At Naruto. At everyone. For holding back words, for trying to be delicate, for dancing around what they really wanted to say. It was stupid.

"I'm going to the library," I announced, standing up and fixing my tie. Waving nonchalantly I turned and left, ignoring the blue irises burning into my back. Stupid idiot, it was none of his business.

* * *

Throwing my red tie to some corner in my room, I shook off my blazer, placing it on the back of my computer chair. I wasn't what I'd call the cleanest person but I wasn't going to leave a 200 dollar blazer lying on the floor either. That's where socks and less expensive clothes go.

Sighing I sat on the edge of my bed and rubbed my face wearily. School had been an effort of epic proportions, I was hoping what was left of the day would be better than it had been.

I'd stayed after school a couple of hours studying. There was a lot to do, I'd have to dedicate every lunchtime to catching up for the next two weeks, not to mention after school. Not that that was much of an issue. In fact it was to my advantage. It gave me a reason to get away and not have my eating habits watched.

Yet at the same time it pissed me off royally. I didn't need to go to the hospital like some degenerate there was _nothing wrong with me_. And because of the actions of a bunch of uneducated idiots I was backwards in both schoolwork and weight loss.

I was in my final years of schooling. This was the last thing that was helping. Everyone says _do well_, _succeed, be the best_ but their actions let you down.

I looked at my watch. _5:43 pm. _If I went down and made dinner now I'd be done by the time Itachi was home. If I'd made enough mess it would look like I'd eaten too. Sounded like plan. _But what kind of person plans things like that? _

Getting up from my bed, I walked across my room, dismissing the thought. Holding the door handle I was about to turn it when I heard the front door slam shut. I froze. Was Itachi already home? I checked my watch again, a subtle nervousness settling in. He was early. An hour early.

"Sasuke! Come downstairs, I got us some dinner."

I bit my lip, unsure. He would have known I was home by my shoes at the door. I had to go down there and make it look like everything was all right and nothing was wrong. Because what kind of person was afraid of eating? I just got of hospital because I said everything was alright so I had to keep it up. But I didn't want to go down there. A part of me says not to go, and the other, more rational side of me told me to stop being an idiot because it was only food - A side that was unfortunately weakening. My stomach rumbled.

"Sasuke?"

"Coming," I yelled back. I shouldn't be this weird about it. Quickly doing some math in my head I counted that out of my 500-calorie daily limit I had 425 left to consume. Unless Itachi had bought salad there was almost no chance of a take-out meal being less than at least 500 calories. I could cut down the meal.

Nonetheless I made my way down the stairs and into the kitchen. Although I was nervous about eating in front of Itachi, I was more nervous of how he would react if I were weird about it. Eyeing both my brother and the white plastic containers in caution, I took a seat at the kitchen table and folded my arms on the table, trying to look nonchalant. I'm sure it was working. So far this was routine.

"I got you your tofu steak and rice. Is that alright?"

"Y-yeah…" I felt bad. He probably thought he was doing me a favour by not making me cook.

Clutching my fork, I opened the lid and set about playing with my rice, twirling the white grains along the metal. How many calories were in here? _400, 500, 600, 1000?_ How much exercise would it take to burn it all off? I thought on these things, the thoughts coming into mind aggressively. Without knowing the amount of calories they seemed immeasurable. And I had a calorie limit. I had to stick to it. I couldn't go over the limit.

_Why?_

"So how was work? You're home early," I asked, trying to block out the thoughts.

"Yeah, not bad, not bad," he said after swallowing his food "All our images had been processed early, so there wasn't any point in hanging around."

I nodded, putting about a small amount of rice into my mouth, chewing slowly. _50 calories?_

"How was school?"

I crinkled my nose, as one usually does when talking about prison at home. "It was okay. Boring, mostly."

"Got much work to catch up on?"

I nodded, again playing with my food. Raising my glass to my lips, I took a gulp of water washing the dry taste of plain rice down my mouth. I didn't even want to touch the tofu steak. It was _covered_ in sticky black sauce. Without making the food myself I didn't know the calorie content, the fat content, the amount of salt used, if any. I could be eating a ridiculous amount of all of the above without knowing it. It seemed like too much of a risk.

We sat like this for a good 15 minutes until Itachi had finished his meal and I'd had enough mouthfuls to waver around my remaining 420-calorie mark. Which of course looked like I'd barely touched it.

I was beginning to get irritated. I wish I knew what I was eating so I didn't have to make myself look like an idiot around _rice_.

Nonetheless I pushed the plastic containing the rice away from me, I was finished. And I knew that Itachi wouldn't just accept it (I did feel bad that he'd wasted money on me like that), hence my nervous waiting for the verbal onslaught.

Getting up from my chair and covering my "leftovers" in plastic, I'd hoped I'd escaped the assault and he hadn't noticed, that his mind was somewhere else. No, that would mean I had some semblance of luck.

"Is that all you're having?" He asked as soon as I'd put it in the fridge, looking at me with an annoyed expression. We'd been through this song and dance before.

"I'm not hungry, I had a big lunch. I'll eat it for breakfast, okay? I need do my homework now." Edging towards the stairs, I'd hoped that was enough, and that he'd believe it. Or at least let it slide.

No such luck. He was too astute for that. Damn.

"Please don't treat me like I'm an idiot, Sasuke. I'd like you to eat that."

I got annoyed with this. What had I just said? I didn't appreciate being treated like a child who was trying to sneak off to play before eating all of my dinner. Folding my arms over my chest I narrowed my eyes, a look that let him know I was unimpressed. Feeling pressured, I put myself on guard.

"I'm not hungry, alright?"

"Don't start," he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and rubbing his eyes. _Don't start what?_ He didn't need to get so stressed out. I was fine, I was healthy. Healthy according to his standards anyway. I was fat, fat, fat and I didn't need all that food. Couldn't he see that he was ruining everything I'd done today?

Restriction wasn't as easy as it looked. It was a _nightmare_.Your mind is telling you _not to eat, you can't eat; you're too fat already_. But your body is _screaming_ at you to put something in your stomach, to give into the cravings, the smells of the cafeteria, the sight of food. Your thoughts are plagued with the thought of food, how much your mind will let you get away with, how many calories are in that, and _oh god I want just one bite_.

And he wanted me to just sit and down and eat, like it was so easy. I just _couldn't_. The guilt at eating almost anything is tremendous. It wasn't easy at all.

"Don't start this again," he repeated.

"Don't start _what_ again?" I asked, getting angry, the pressure rising. "I said that I wasn't hungry, alright? Just get off my back."

"I know you said you weren't hungry, I don't believe you," he replied. Outwardly he sounded quite calm but I'd known him long enough to know that he was probably as equally frustrated as me. For very different reasons of course.

"I also said I would eat it tomorrow. Give it a rest, you're overreacting." He wouldn't have any of that. As much as I loved my brother he had an infuriating habit of taking the authoritarian role when he wanted to. The older Uchiha mimicked my stance, folding his arms over his chest. I stiffened in anger, this was getting ridiculous. Why couldn't he just leave me alone? We were both very stubborn.

"I'm not going to argue with you."

"Then don't argue with me." I frowned and edged further out of the kitchen. I could hear myself sounding childish and illogical because, in reality, how hard can it be to eat a meal? It shouldn't be, in reality, the ordeal that it is. But I couldn't stop the words spilling out of my mouth. I was just so angry that he was trying to make me eat that _shit_ and couldn't he understand that I just _can't_? I couldn't.

He'd had enough, apparently. Throwing his arms up in surrender, he set about cleaning the kitchen, refusing to look at me, disappointment evident on his face. I didn't like that.

"If you want to starve yourself, fine, go ahead. I'm not going to baby you. I don't know what the _hell_ you think you're doing to yourself but I'm not going to bother if you wont."

I shook my head, beginning to feel a bit uneasy. I felt great relief at the subject being a dropped – a victory – but felt terrible for my treatment of my brother. At the back of my mind I knew there was no malicious intent in his actions, but it was his well-meaning actions that caused the internal drama.

Feeling awkward and bothered I went back to my room. I felt guilty. Both at eating what I'd had and for adding to Itachi's stress. I didn't mean for the words to come out of my mouth like that, but I couldn't stop myself. It's like I'd gone on autopilot. I didn't know what to do to remedy the situation. I'd always looked up to my big brother and wasn't comfortable with his disappointment. My mind said it was the lesser of the two evils.

Not wanting to think, not wanting to feel, not wanting any hint of food to enter my mind, I started doing crunches, sit-ups, and push-ups, anything that my 4 walls would accommodate.

_61…_

_62…_

_63…_

_64…_

* * *

Later that night, I was lying in bed, tossing and turning trying to fall asleep. Key word was trying. My sleeping patterns were all over the place, switching from sleeping too little to sleeping too much. The alarm clock read _11:37 PM _and my body was showing no signs of fatigue. The adrenaline of exercise I suppose was still in my system.

There was a knocking at my door. _Tap tap tap._

"Sasuke?"

The door opened, a beam of light from the hallway shining through and illuminating my room. I squeezed my eyes shut and pretended to be asleep. I didn't really want confrontation right now; I didn't know what he would say. I just wanted to sleep. I heard the soft thuds against my carpet getting louder as they approached my bed.

"I know you're awake." Damn. Opening my eyes, I looked at the wall in front of me, staying snuggled underneath my thick doona. I didn't want to look at him, I didn't know if he was still angry or not. He didn't sound too angry. But then again he rarely sounded much like anything.

A hand reached out and ruffled my hair. I relaxed, but still didn't chance looking at him. His and my way of indicating that I was sorry I guess. We weren't into _I love you's_ and _I'm sorry's_ and _Please forgive me's._ It just didn't happen and that worked well for us.

"I shouldn't have said what I did. But I need you to work with me okay?" Brief and to the point, Itachi didn't mince words. I didn't know what to say or what to feel, not quite knowing what _working with him_ would involve. So I just nodded, that was the right thing to do.

Briefly glancing at him I saw him nod, dark hair shaking with the motion. He straightened his posture and headed again towards the door.

"Goodnight."

"'Night…"

The door was shut and the room was once again dark. Although we had just technically apologized and forgiven one another in a rather unconventional manner, I still felt troubled. Something had to change. Unless one of us was willing to change our approach, we'd still be ending up in the same situation. He yells, I yell, I don't eat enough, he gets angry, and I get angry.

It wasn't the first time this had happened over the last few months. I suppose he might have thought that being out of the hospital meant that I was _normal_ again, that any peculiar habits were gone, that I was _better_. I began to loathe that word. "Better", like I was inferior or faulty. There was nothing wrong to begin with. I was doing what I thought was necessary. Was it really so bad?

I furrowed deeper into my bed and yawned. The pressure of school, of friends, of Naruto and suspicion, of Itachi and his disappointment, something had to change. I knew no one else would. Who in their right mind would say, _oh no that's fine, you go ahead and only eat 500 calories a day we're fine and dandy with that, who cares if it's considered starvation? _No one. Although I'm sure it would make my life a little easier if they would. I knew it was too heavy a restriction that I would never suggest that anyone else do, but it was somehow, irrationally, it was okay for me.

Things were going to change.


	2. Goes Unpunished

This morning had been a good morning. A fine morning. A quiet morning. Itachi had gone to work early and I'd had the house all to myself before I left for school. I'd had a cold shower, weighed myself, gotten dressed in my school uniform and come downstairs for breakfast. By breakfast I mean an apple to cease the traitorous rumbling in my stomach.

Taking advantage of the fact no one was around I took out the rice and tofu anyway, smearing the now cold sauce over a plate. I stuck a few grains and rice here and there over the porcelain, making it look as if I'd eaten it. I felt a bit bad doing so, being sneaky like this, wasting money. I wanted to eat it, but I couldn't. It was an alternative that made everyone happy.

I tossed the food into a plastic bag, tying it up tight enough so nothing would fall out. I'd thrown into a bin somewhere later. Hitting two birds with one stone, I'd keep Itachi happy and remove the source of temptation.

I think I'd walk to school today. My aching muscles protested against the idea, begging me to get in my car and drive, but I knew I couldn't. After a painful few weeks I was finally getting ahead on my diet and exercise. I could burn roughly two hundred calories if I walked to school. I felt like I had to. A strange compulsion that I couldn't seem to get rid of.

Like I said, it _had_ been a good morning.

--

"What do you mean I could fail Psychology?"

Kakashi rubbed his head and yawned. "Well unless you can catch up on the fourth area of study by next Monday then you can't sit the test… Well you _can_, but if you don't know anything you'd fail it anyway."

Readjusting the textbook in my arms, I frowned, considering whether or not catching up and revising at the same time was possible before Monday. The outlook was not particularly bright, certainly, but I wasn't some average ranking student who didn't care. I did care and I knew that this one test could send all my efforts thus far tumbling into a pile of nothing. I wasn't stupid.

"I can do it."

He just shrugged, nonchalant. "Mahh. If you're sure. There'll be no special consideration."

I scowled; I didn't expect any special consideration to begin with. I could get high marks on my own merit; I worked hard and had been working hard since the school year had started. Watching the teacher slump over his table I silently wondered how it was _me_ he considered unmotivated.

But I nodded, confirming that I was sure of this; still frowning at the silver haired mans implications I left the classroom without saying goodbye and headed for my locker, not happy. Unlocking the combination I shoved my History books in haphazardly, but keeping my psychology ones, my locker in a similarly unclean state at my bedroom.

I closed my locker and started heading towards the library, keen to get a head start on the work I was behind on. What a nightmare. I could already begin to feel the stress of the looming test on my shoulders, tensing the muscles with a vice-like grip. Reaching the haven for nerds, loners and seekers of warmth from the cold winter air, I saw Naruto and Neji sitting at one of the tables in the furthest left hand corner, behind the health section.

I'd hoped I could get away quickly without being seen, but again, that would require me actually possessing some form of luck. Naruto with his bionic senses for anything Sasuke spotted me, smiled and began waving his arm side to side widely to get my attention. Of course, being as obvious as he was he got the attention of the entire library. I suppressed the urge to slap my forehead.

I walked over to their table and sat opposing the two, now that, to my great misfortune, I had been spotted and couldn't avoid small talk at the least. Sitting close together it seemed as if Neji was tutoring Naruto in something. Peeking a glance at the open book before them I saw it was for Advanced Indonesian. Yuck, I dropped that subject after it became an elective last year. There was no way I wanted to continue with that.

Seeing my less than delighted expression Naruto gave me a bored expression and scratched his nose.

"I've got a test next Wednesday, a five minute oral-presentation _entirely_ in Indo, " he explained, sounding none-too pleased himself. Poor thing. I grimaced.

"Ew. Good luck with that."

"Terimah Kasih."

And with that, he was back to his studies. Opening my textbook, I flipped to the chapter I was currently in most need of learning – _Classical Conditioning_. Skimming the page and having a quick read, I tried to figure out what the hell all these abbreviations meant.

_The NS becomes a CS through association with a UCS to produce a CR._

…. What? I shook my head, rubbing my eyes and starting again. Once more.

_The NS becomes a CS_ _through association with a UCS to produce a CR._

Eh? Maybe I should go back a few pages….

Flipping back a few pages to the very beginning of the chapter I started again, looking down with a sense of dread at the thick paragraphs of definitions all over the double spread pages. I felt a bit light-headed. Whether that was from lack of food or the sheer hurt of this area of study or both, I didn't know. How the hell was I supposed to read through over 60 pages of study and learn it well enough to excel on Monday? What had I gotten myself into?

"You doin' psych work?" asked Naruto inquisitively, looking up from his own work, Neji looking a bit disgruntled from a second interruption. I nodded and reached into my school bag, taking out a green pear. Technically we weren't supposed to have food and beverages inside the library, but no one took notice of the rule, the librarians too meek and outnumbered to enforce it on a mass scale.

"Yuck."

"Mhmm," I murmured in agreement and put my head into my hand, elbow resting on the table. "Gotta catch up though. We've got the test on Monday, remember?"

"Ah, shit, yeah. Are you _that_ behind?"

I nodded, making a face at the prospect of having to do so much in so little time. "I've still got classical conditioning, operant conditioning _and_ one-trial learning to cover," I pointed out, the sheer volume of the work needed to be learned was suffice to make Naruto shudder in disgust. Even Neji gave me a sympathetic look.

"That sucks, man." I nodded in agreement, biting into my pear.

The blond looked thoughtful for a moment, ignoring his study, before the proverbial light bulb flashed over his head and his face brightened as if a switch had been turned on.

"I know!" He exclaimed, his loud voice echoing painfully throughout the library, earning him annoyed looks and shushes from some students and the head librarian. A short, uptight woman with an infallible penchant and talent for gossip and gossiping, the library was her tabloid. Despite her love for hearing her own voice she was keen on keeping the rest of us quiet.

"I know," he repeated whispering and leaning over the table, as if he was about to uncover some great secret or conspiracy. I often wondered why he never took drama. "You can borrow my notes if you want. Classical conditioning is the _worst_."

"That'd be great," I replied, nodding, taking another bite from my pear and brushing my dark bangs out of my face. Lecture notes direct from class where a hell of a lot more helpful than the formal textbook filled with confusing examples and even more confusing jargon. Naruto smiled, happy to be of assistance and turned his attention back to his language revision. Just for a moment. Just as Neji was beginning to pronounce some foreign word, Naruto's head snapped back up, coming to a sudden realization.

"Ah crap, I left my book at home…hey why don't you just come over after school and I'll help you out? It can get a bit confusing. I had to get Kakashi-sensei to repeat it like a million times."

I agreed without thinking. For the reasons that it was a familiar routine and the fact that I was in desperate need of help. Me getting academic help from Naruto wasn't unheard of, but was a rarity all the same. It was usually the other way around in terms of school assistance.

The repercussions of my agreement didn't hit me until a few moments later after Neji smacked Naruto upside the head for ignoring him once again. I suddenly felt nervous about going over there, no doubt there'd be food involved. No doubt I'd be under watch. No doubt there'd be awkwardness – if I made it awkward that is. I hated feeling anxious at something that had never made me uncomfortable before. It would be okay. I was better than this. Its just Naruto for gods' sake. There's nothing to worry about. Stop getting so worked up.

I nodded again, more to myself than anyone else and looked back to my page again, a highlighter in hand.

_UCS: The unconditioned stimulus…_

* * *

"Your car or mine?"

"Yours. I walked," I replied. Opening the wide double doors that released us from the prison dubbed school, Naruto and I were greeted by a darkening gray sky and a gust of chilly wind. Judging by the smell, it would rain soon.

Naruto looked up at the ominous dark clouds and crinkled his nose, obviously displeased with the outlook.

"In this weather?"

I shrugged. It had been a bit cold this morning, but nothing to be terribly worried about. When was at my lowest weight I had been incredibly sensitive to the cold, having to layer up as much as possible. I shoved my cold hands into the pockets of my gray school pants and headed towards the bright yellow lemon in the parking lot. The car could be visible from 50 kilometers away.

Reaching the car I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at the pitiful state he'd left it in.

"Sorry about the mess, just shove it on the floor or in the back or something…." Looking through the windows, I shook my head. Empty plastic cups and cartons from various take-away restaurants, clothes thrown haphazardly, schoolwork and various textbooks littered the car, covering the seats. I wasn't sure I wanted to touch it. I opened the door, (reluctantly) I picked up the dirty socks and papers on the passenger seat and quickly threw them in the back. I thought my bedroom looked bad. It seemed like Naruto's car was his bedroom, his laundry room _and_ his locker.

"This is nasty," I commented vaguely, my eyes wandering back and forth at the garbage, still slightly dumbfounded at the accumulation of mess from one teenage boy. Naruto just nodded, agreeing, and started the car. Well tried to. After the car stalled a few times at the turn of the ignition Naruto gave the dashboard a hard thump and a kick from underneath. And after that we were off.

Naruto had a love/hate relationship with his vehicle. Nearly 20 years old, the bright yellow bomb was likely to give out and refuse to start up at any given time. He had _loved_ it when it had first been given to him (a birthday present to work on from his guardian) but had since then kicked and punched the poor ancient thing more than he had blinked in his life. It was a troublesome car indeed, but as long as it eventually started Naruto kept it.

It smelled in here. Like hamburgers. Salty and oily it had the scent of a ridiculously popular take-out chain with a giant 'M' as its symbol…blergh. A heart attack disguised as a meal, delicious. I wound down a window for some fresh air, the displeasing smell making my stomach turn. The wind in my face was refreshing in contrast to the stench of the food that probably wouldn't rot for the next 15 years.

Just under 15 minutes later we were pulling into the driveway of Naruto's home. A modest, one storey, brick home. It wasn't extravagant by any means, but it was homey and familiar. Naruto had lived here ever since he'd been adopted – most of his life. I'd never heard him complain, and why should he?

Leaving the mobile dump, we entered the front door, took our shoes off and headed towards Naruto's room.

"I'm home old man! Sasuke's here too so get your head outta the porn!"

"It's romantic literature!" Came the indignant cry from the lounge room where Jiraiya was sitting at his computer typing away speedily, immersed into his "work". Romantic Literature was putting it lightly; it was more like dirty smut and fantasies. Naruto dismissed his comment through, shrugging. We headed into his room, found a clean space on his beige carpet and sat down on it.

Pulling my glasses from my bag and putting them on, I set about opening my books. I suppressed a groan at the thought of having to squash three chapters worth of information into my brain. It wasn't particularly what I'd call ideal, having to both cram and be tutored.

"So what the hell is a neutral stimulus?"

* * *

"...and spontaneous recovery is the _reappearance of a conditioned response when the conditioned stimulus is again presented_, get it?"

I nodded, slowly, adjusting my glasses so they wouldn't fall. I'm pretty sure my brain was going to explode. Or implode. Or do _something_ violent in retaliation to the abuse it had just suffered. What a nightmare. I suddenly wished, regretfully, that I'd attended classes when this had been taught first-hand, not that there had been much of a choice. Classical conditioning was complicated and lengthy and a pain in the ass to wrap my head around in the better part of two hours. If I wasn't so determined and stubborn it would have been just about impossible.

"Let's take a break," I suggested, taking off my glasses, putting them back into their black case. Naruto nodded, yawning widely tired from drilling the work into my head. The blonde looked at me for a little too long after nodding, and I raised an eyebrow.

"You look hot in those glasses," was his answer to my unspoken question.

There, _there_ it was. My brain went _kaboom_ in a final brutal protest, unable to take it anymore. I could feel it splatter against my skull and pool at the bottom in a bloody, oozy mess. My head had just committed suicide in the most violent fashion possible, just great. I glared at the idiot responsible for this in my final moments of coherency. He didn't seem to take notice and, really, I shouldn't have expected much more than that from him. Instead of repelling him, it urged the fool on more.

"Is that your attempt at a pick up line?" I asked in a bored tone.

"Is it working?"

"No. You couldn't be more lame if you - " and any words that were to follow were swallowed when a pair of lips was pressed against mine in a wet kiss. Pulling back for a moment I stared annoyed at the blonde teen that had decided to invade my personal space without warning. But my brain was not yet coherent, only managing to utter a single familiar word.

"Idiot!" I was ignored and was kissed again, his hand on my cheek. Where was this coming from? This isn't quite what I mean by taking a break. But my traitorous mind decided to conveniently switch off and my two-timing body took over, muscle memory kicking back into something familiar.

Threading my fingers through blond locks, I pulled him closer and started playing with his lower lip with my tongue. Kicking our schoolbooks out of his path, Naruto came closer, straddling my waist. My head went fuzzy in a hormonal cloud; my body heated up spreading comfortable warmth.

Dominating the kiss, he began licking and sucking on my lower lip, teeth clanging together and any thoughts of _why, how and is this really okay_ dissipated into nothingness as my body temperature rose, logic thrown out the window with any remains of argument. A hand went up his shirt, tracing lines up and down on his heated skin. His hand was in my hair, pulling, grabbing, raking his nails down my scalp as sensually as the situation called and for once it was nice not think and to just feel. It felt intense and without reason and that was okay. I suddenly felt very hot as I started tracing his spine down his back, our bodies pressed together.

In reality we were two teenage boys in a sloppy, heated position. But it was warm and wet and it was _so good right now…_

His hands were all over me, on my face, my neck, my chest while his lips were being attentive to mine, his tongue exploring my own and –

"Sasuke are you – Oh _Jesus_ boys lock the door next time."

Immediately red faced I pushed Naruto off me, my head crashing back into reality in the most abrupt manner possible. I cleared my throat and fixed my clothes in a _nothing happened lets break the awkward silence_ way. Jiraiya did the same. I didn't even hear him open the door. Oh _god_…being caught making out like two pre-pubescent kids, how mortifying.

"Uhh yeah…are you staying for dinner Sasuke?" If the embarrassing disruption before wasn't like a splash of cold water, then that was. I quickly brainstormed, coming up with an appropriate lie to get myself out of this situation as soon as possible. I cleared my throat.

"Actually, I - "

"Of course he is," interrupted Naruto, his hair and clothes in an embarrassing state of disarray. The boy was without shame. I looked away from him, feeling incredibly awkward. I cleared my throat again, trying not to frown at the teen for speaking on my behalf.

"Good, 'cause I already set him out a plate of vegetables. Hurry up and get out lovers, it's ready." And with that he was gone, his long white ponytail swishing as he receded to the kitchen. We were left in here, a silence setting down. Momentarily at least.

"We're not lovers!" Naruto called back standing up and dusting himself off. I stood up, ignoring his outstretched hand and made myself look more presentable, straightening my shirt and tie and dusting off my pants.. How humiliating. This day was steadily getting worse.

"Okay, boyfriends, is that the word you're using?"

"We're not that either. Just stop talking!"

I shook my head and followed Naruto into the dining room, sitting at the square wooden table. Sitting down I was poured a glass of water into my orange, opaque cup. Something that I was very glad for. This was good. Once the others had started eating, I chopped one of my broccoli florets into very small quarters, sticking a small piece into my mouth, chewing slowly.

Using this time, I thought back to not more than 3 minutes ago. It wasn't entirely uncommon for Naruto and I to make-out at random when we were by ourselves when we were both single. I guess it was just an unspoken outlook that we were two hormonal teenage boys who were friends who had dated each other. We tried the whole dating thing, broken up, nothing we did was serious enough for us to get back into it for real.

What would we be? Friends with benefits? I don't know. We weren't having sex and it wasn't something that we'd verbally agreed upon. I didn't know what to classify us as. Or why we should even be classified. We were always weird and out of the ordinary together, so a label seemed somehow unnecessary. I don't know whether or not it was a practice that I would consider healthy though. I mean how close was close?

Biting into a forkful of mashed potato I pretended to chew for a while and swallow. Raising my cup to my lips I discreetly spat the potato back into the water, making it appear as if I was drinking. I did the same with the napkin provided to me, pretending to chew or swallow while I was actually eating nothing at all. I felt guilty at wasting the food somebody had put their time and effort into making for me, but it was the only to get everyone off my shoulders. If they saw me "eating" then how could they say anything to the contrary?

"So what were you boys…_studying_?"

"Psychology," answered Naruto, his mouth full of peas. Jiraiya nodded, looking as if he wanted to make a joke about Biology. I was still slightly horrified at being caught in such an improper position and the older mans amused face didn't help much.

10 minutes later after some small talk and banter between family, I scooped up the last bit of potatoes and peas I repeated my deceitful process and thanked Jiraiya for the meal. I stood up with my plate and cup and brought it over to the kitchen sink.

"Don't worry about that Sasuke, you're a guest." I shook my head dismissing the comment, in what appeared to politeness. _Of course I had to worry about it_ I thought to myself as I threw my napkin full of food into their rubbish bin. Rinsing off my plate I placed it in the dishwasher, drying my hands on a towel. I tipped my water and the thoroughly chewed food remains down the sink. I breathed a sigh in relief that I'd not been caught out.

"It's okay, really." Looking back at the table I looked to see Naruto trying not to look pleased. Raised eyebrows and a twitch at the side of his mouth. Deceptive or not, I was glad that for the first time in a long while my actions were making someone happy. I was growing sick of disappointment.

* * *

"Well _that_ was awkward." Rubbing my eyes tiredly I nodded in agreement as we walked towards my front door. The outdoor light flashed on, beaming false light upon us. I felt strange having Naruto walk me to my front door like two people on their first date; we were far too familiar for that. He'd been very compliant since dinner. It was weird. Studying his expression I decided to say something. It had been too strange a day and my nerves were wearing thin.

"You know what else is awkward? You kissing me out of nowhere."

Naruto just shrugged, shivering slightly, not having enough sense to even pretend to look bashful. He thrust his hands into his pockets and kicked some dirt on the ground, looking down he spoke quietly. "I've missed you, Bastard."

"…Do you snog everyone you miss?" I asked sarcastically, scrunching up my nose, unsure at what to feel. What kind of stupid reply was _I've missed you _anyway? Naruto just yawned, stretching his arms wide, his face blank, unfazed by my attitude.

"No, just you. I'm glad you came back," he said. In the dim light I could see his cheeks turning pink in embarrassment. He scratched his nose meekly, avoiding my eyes. I couldn't see it but I knew he was squirming inside – If we were having a verbal war to make each other more embarrassed than I was winning.

"You expected me to stay in the hospital forever?" The conversation was quickly growing more awkward and uncomfortable by the second, he was good at doing that. I remedied this by being difficult, _avoid the issue, avoid the issue…_

"No? I dunno. I didn't know how things would be when you got out, if you'd still talk to us anymore…" he trailed off, unsure what he should be saying. I could see that he was dying to use the word "_better_", that infuriating word was pushing on the boundaries of his lips desperate to be spat out. It wasn't his fault I supposed; for all intents and purposes I appeared to be someone "recovered" from an eating disorder. I shook my head and reached for the door handle.

"You're an idiot."

"So we're cool then?"

"Yeah, yeah," I agreed, dismissively, opening my front door trying to get in from the cold. Naruto was stupid. As if a spontaneous kiss was going to be the be all that ends all between us. Nejis' earlier blow to the head must've made him forget that, as my ex, it wasn't as if we hadn't done more than that in the past. In fact I was rather unfazed by it all. It wasn't entirely unpleasant.

"Cool. I'll see you tomorrow!" He said, any previous worries gone. He waved as he retreated back into his car, drawing his jacket zipper up to his neck and hunching his shoulders trying to protect himself from the cold. The car heater didn't work, poor guy. He'll be freezing until he got home.

Stepping inside to my own heated home, I closed the door behind me and yelled to Itachi that I was home and it wasn't some random entering the house.

I found him sitting on the sofa, typing up something on his laptop. I _think_ things were fine between us. I wasn't too sure, but I'd risk it.

"How was work?" I asked, loosening my tie and leaning against the doorframe of the lounge room. He looked up briefly from his work to look at me and smile before he turned back to it, fingers clicking away at the keys vehemently.

"Yeah, very busy actually. How was school?"

I shrugged my blazer off and removed my shoes. "Yeah it was okay. Naruto's helping me catch up with Psychology - I had dinner at his house," I added in quickly at the end.

Itachi just nodded and returned to his work. Satisfied I hade made effort with the pleasantries I went upstairs into my bedroom, got out my textbooks and began studying again. I had to get this right. I had to do well.

Later that night I was laying bed, having woken up from my sleep several times already, and unable to fall back into slumber. My stomach was growling, my head was light and my forehead cold. I was much too discomforted to be anything but awake.

I put my hands behind my head and stared at the ceiling, resigning myself for a long night of wakefulness. My head was swarming with ideas, thoughts, and memories, being as active as it possibly could at the worst possible time.

Before I'd woken I'd been dreaming of my family, dreaming that my parents were still alive and nothing bad had ever happened. Everything was fine, I was fine and life was normal, blissful even.

I was artificially happy in the hazy false world that the mind created in sleep until I'd awoken and the reality that I was only in my bed, in my dark room was a cold reality. One that I was used to, but still a chill after the warmth of dreams.

I don't know if I missed my parents or if I missed what my life was life before they were dead, or both. When I was 8 I can't say that I knew my parents too well, or what their true nature was through the innocent eyes of a child. Maybe I just mourned what I would never know. I don't know. I couldn't apply how they'd react to the recent months, something that bothered my slightly. I couldn't remember enough about them to say they'd be disappointed or be angry or something else entirely. It left with me a sense of being incomplete, undefined. Itachi was a great guardian, sure, I know he tried his hardest, but it wasn't the same.

Turning over onto my side, I closed my eyes and willed my brain to shut up and to shut down because it was _three o'clock in the morning for gods' sake_ and I had school tomorrow so please be quiet and stop thinking? Today, I had school today. Because it was technically today wasn't it? I fell asleep an hour later, my blankets cocooning me. As the darkness finally took over I was still left with the feeling that something was missing.


	3. A Piece Of Me

A horrid red mess. It was a horrid red, yellow and brown mess. It looked like a quagmire and it smelled like copper and sourness. The stark, rancid, acidic fumes rose, hitting my face and filling my nose, making me cringe. My mouth twisted into a grimace, my watery eyes tightened as the scent assaulted me, wetting my eyelashes in the small pools of tears.

I rested tired forearms on the porcelain bowl and bowed my head, breathing labored. My stomach tightened painfully as I heaved in breath and my throat felt as if I'd been swallowing razor blades – for all the damage I'd just done to it I might as well have been. I didn't bother brushing away the strands of hair that was sticking to my face, at the moment it was too much of an effort to do anything other than keep myself upright. My entire body was shaking, my knees weak, I felt like a car had just hit me.

In my fatigue I stared at the off white floor tiles that were no more than a foot in front of me trying to prompt my mind to concentrate on something and for gods' sake _get a grip_. They became hazy, mismatched squares as my eyes slipped in and out of focus and I couldn't remember that this was only my line of vision and the world wasn't actually blurry.

I turned my forehead that was resting on my arm to stare at the wall of the cubicle and thought somewhere in the back of my mind that it might be good to rest against _Just for now, just for a few minutes_. It wasn't a plush sofa but it might be okay.

I sluggishly removed myself from the death grip I had on the toilet seat and leaned my back against the hard cubicle wall, not bothering to flush, not really considering how disgusting it was to have been touching it in the first place.

I blinked dark eyes rapidly trying to clear my vision and drew my shaking knees to my chest, my face hot from exertion. As the concepts of time and place slowly became more recognized I could tell my mind was slowly catching up to speed, my body aching more as the adrenaline subsided.

Indeed enough I recognized that I was sitting on the filthy floor of the men's toilet in the local pizzeria**, **unable to gather enough energy to even stand up.

I recognized that I had just gotten onto my knees, plunged my fingers into my mouth and made myself regurgitate over and over again without a second thought. The knowledge of what I was doing made it impossible for me to pity myself – Because I had known it would hurt, I knew it was awful; furthermore I knew it was messed up and abnormal and I still did it.

I rested my eyes in my shaking palms as my mind cleared of guilt and urgency and the regret began to settle in. As it always does. The inevitable remorse that came when doing something so _wrong_ sank into my blood like a stone into water. I mean, because it was wrong, wasn't it? There were a lot of people who needed to lose weight but how many of them would go so far as to make themselves sick?

In the midst of my regret I was a bit angry with myself. Angry at having to resort to such a vile act as purging, angry at being weak and angry that I'd given into it again. And I was ashamed, the act of throwing up your own nourishment in such a derogatory position, having to forcefully stick your own fingers down your throat to painfully force your food back up. It was just shameful, the weakness, the measures I let myself stoop to. The fact that I couldn't say _no_. I was acting pathetic.

Purging was far from pleasant. It took forever, it was physically demanding and it _hurt_ to take such a large toll on the body. It wasn't the glamorous practice that movies and television made it out to be, it was nothing short of horrible.

Food restriction was okay, limiting calories was okay; I was fine with that, no matter how many people would tell me I was sick I would never believe them when I was restricting, because it made me feel good. It was when I binged and purged or just purged for no logical reason that makes me sometimes think maybe I am sick, it was my indicator that maybe something was wrong with me. Because what sane person does that?

To make it worse I knew, even with the knowledge that I was doing myself harm, I wasn't going to do anything about it. The ends justify the means - and the need to purge and restrict was far greater than the need to get "better".

Shouldn't that worry me? How apathetic I was about something that could potentially kill me?

_But you need it_.

I tried to even out my breathing, the shakes finally easing, and gathered enough wit to wipe away the sticky wetness from my hair and face. I must've looked like such a mess, with vomit over my face and hands, sweating, just holding myself up. I _felt_ like a mess - better yet I felt like an idiot, a moron, because when had purging become necessary? The firm control I had over my actions were beginning to slip.

Rubbing my eyes wearily, I looked at my watch and saw that I'd been gone for 17 minutes. Yeah, like _that_ wasn't suspicious.

The scenario: _Friend who has eating disorder so willingly eats his pizza and then slips off to the bathroom taking much longer than it usually does to piss._ No, not suspicious at all. Just glaringly obvious. You idiot.

I sighed quietly, unsure of what to do just yet, I'd certainly dug myself into a hole I wouldn't get out of very easily. I should be getting back soon, I have to get up. But what on earth could I say to my friends that seemed at least half plausible? Should I be _annoyed_ that I knew they were going to assume and ask the obvious or should I be grateful? Would they be nosy or were they concerned? Over the last year or so I'd lost the clarity I'd once had to make that sort of judgment. Should _that_ worry me?

As I was about to raise myself up, I heard the creaky swing of the men's bathroom door sway open and footsteps scuffle against the tiles. From the gap between the door and the grimy floor I could see familiar black muddy sneakers stop at my cubicle, and all was silent for a moment before a harsh knocking.

"Sasuke?"

I froze, hesitating to answer, and my mind raced, searching for every possible excuse. But I didn't know what to do, what should I say? He could see me on the floor, so he _knew_ it was me. What do I say? Should I stand up, get out and pretend nothing happened? I mean it was obvious wasn't it, could I lie my way out of it? Be calm. Act calm. Don't look guilty, what's there to be guilty about?

Still unsure, I didn't say anything or move. My brain, to my frustration, refused to come up with any answers.

A few knocks were heard again before the nasally voice called out again loudly, the voice echoing on the tiles.

"Sasuke? Are you alright?"

I shuffled to my feet very quickly and brushed the imaginary dirt off me, thinking that was the smartest course of action for now. I didn't want, I didn't _need_ to be caught out looking pathetic on the floor, although I knew he'd already seen me - but I could at least try to salvage _some_ dignity. There was nothing more degrading than being found listless on the ground.

Mind still dashing madly, I made sure there was no vomit left on my face or in my hair, I opened the cubicle door, ignored Naruto and headed straight for the taps. I washed my face with the cold water, not bothering to make it warm and washed my mouth out. The blond teen came up beside me as I dried my face inspecting myself in the mirror, pretending that there was nothing wrong and that the small bathroom didn't reek of vomit. My eyes were red rimmed, my complexion was splotchy at best and I was, as always, impossibly fat.

How could anyone say otherwise when I could clearly see they were wrong? From the mirror I could see Naruto look at me appraisingly, scratching the side of his scrunched up nose awkwardly.

"You look like shit," he said loudly, verdict reached. "What the hell took you so long?"

I just glared at him through the mirror; maybe just for no other reason other than being so candid when it wasn't necessary, I wasn't in the mood for his shit. I set about drying my hands on the coarse paper towels, making doubly sure there was no dirt on my knees, what a dead giveaway.

"I wasn't feeling well," I snapped, suddenly feeling very impatient. I knew I looked like crap run over twice, I certainly felt like it - I didn't want to _think_ about food, purging and morals let alone get into a conversation about it. Why should I have to explain myself?

Wanting nothing more than to ignore him I began to head back to the door, back to the restaurant and our friends, but Naruto blocked my path. Half taken aback by his stubbornness and half impatient I narrowed my eyes and tried to walk around him. He blocked me again, following my movements.

"I'm not stupid," he said, crossing his arms over his chest, eyebrow raised. Cocky little bastard.

"Could'a fooled me." I tried to get round him again, irritation beginning to simmer. His Save Sasuke crusade was getting very old very fast. But my insult didn't deter him (when does it ever?), and he kept standing there, looking at me expectantly, as if he thought I would burst into tears and confession.

The harsh, fluorescent lighting of the bathroom was beginning to give me a headache; I'd been in here too long. Impatiently, I rubbed my temple and waited for him to spit out whatever the hell he wanted to say. No doubt he'd turn this into a midday soap opera, shiny lights, soft background music and everything. C'mon, dramatize it already and we can be done.

"You were throwing up weren't you?" Ah, there it was, frank and on time, as usual, perfectly delivered - Naruto wasn't one to mince words. Anyone with an inch of tact might have said _oh come on over here and sit down I think we should talk about this…_ but Naruto has as much tact as a snail had speed.

Maybe at any other time I would have appreciated his predictable attitudebut right now it was just adding to my growing annoyance. The lights, the headache, the pain in my stomach, his refusal to back down at all the wrong times were beginning to stress. I sneered at him, pissed off. What right did he have to question me over this?

"What's your problem? Mind your own fucking business." Apparently that was enough to confirm his suspicions about my 'actions' and he glared right back at me, his face disappointed.

"What the hell do you mean _what's my problem?_ You're in here, supposed to be all better, vomiting your goddamn guts out and I'm not allowed to be worried?"

I crossed my arms over my chest and pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to suppress the urge to yell back. I didn't like this, The Bathroom Inquisition.

I felt more anger bubble up at Naruto and myself. He didn't have to know that I was weak enough to resort to purging; I was supposed to be better than that. I could see how disappointed he was with me, I was disappointed with myself. I was supposed to be better than this. Yet I was livid that he was trying to interfere, and I knew he was just trying to help but in my short mood it came off as patronizing and belittling.

"There's nothing to worry about, I'm fine. Move the hell out of the way already."

The loud teen just shook his head mulishly and scratched his head, brow furrowed. He was not happy.

Was he trying to guilt-trip me? A voice in the back of my mind said _no, Naruto has never been like that_, but paranoia said otherwise. _Should_ I feel bad about this? We were close friends and I was betraying his trust in me, after all, I'd flaunted my so-called _recovery_ in his face. That had to mean something.

_But why should I have to answer to him?_

He shook his head again and ran a thoughtful finger over his lips. "I just fucking wish you would talk to me about this stuff, you know?" And with this he leaned against the wall, giving me free access to leave.

But I didn't leave, as much as I wanted to, as incredibly tempting it would be to ignore it all. He probably deserved a little more than me walking out on such a dramatic moment, and besides that would be giving him self-righteous satisfaction. Or maybe he was just lucky that today I was feeling lenient. I leaned against the sink, porcelain digging into my back, crossing my arms over my chest and avoided his face. I avoided answering altogether - How would you even begin to reply to that? I should save myself the drama and let him vent, I mean I think that's what he was trying to do.

"I mean look at you, you're all skin and bones again," he lies, throwing his hands up into the air, "I just can't understand why the hell you do this to yourself. You're not fucking _fat_ Sasuke - I can't understand it!"

I shook my head and rubbed my temples again, not trusting myself to answer calmly. _Just let him vent_. His voice echoed off the white tiles and reverberated in my ears in some roundabout way of drilling the words into my head. I could listen all I want to his words but I didn't believe it. How _could_ I believe it? I couldn't allow myself to even think what he was saying was true for even a moment - How could I trust his words when my own eyes told me differently? I knew that I wasn't in shape and I could _see_ the kilograms on my body and no pleasant words were going to make that different. I wanted to believe him; I wanted to believe the scales when they told me I was underweight, but how was that possible when my reflection painted me so repulsive?

"Look, can we talk about this later?" I said tiredly, "Your voice is giving me a migraine." He gave me a meaningful look as if to say _you bet your ass we will be_ but didn't argue, thankfully. We both walked out and joined our friends again. They were staring at us, weird but cheeky looks on their faces. What were they up to now?

"Nice pash rash, Sasuke," laughed Kiba. I frowned, what the hell was he on about? I just gave him the _you're-an-idiot_ expression and slid into the booth, suppressing the urge to cover the lips I knew were reddened by my purging. I knew that would only amuse the dog lover and we can't have any of that.

Naruto slid in next to me and clapped me hard on the back, laughing along with him. I rolled my eyes – those two were as thick as thieves. They both were crude, immature and uncouth - way too alike for my tastes.

"Caught us!" He said, acting sheepish. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, wondering why he'd played along, subsequently lying. Was it to make himself look good or was it to cover for me? I guess I should be thankful either way, it was a believable cover given our history. I gave him a look I knew he'd understand and took a long gulp of my water. This night was turning out to be much more effort than I thought it would.

"You took long enough in there. Jesus, get a room!" I rolled my eyes again and discreetly elbowed Naruto in the ribs, pretending to lean back. The contact was enough of _thanks for getting me out of jail card_, he knew that. I tried not to feel guilty for doubting him, for assuming his intentions were unkind, because they never were.

Turning my attention back to my friends, it seemed that our faux bathroom make-out was already old news. I suppose it comes in handy that most of us had a short attention span.

"…and she walked up to me and was all like _'I'd like some'a that!'_ and rubbed her boo-"

"Aw, whatever man."

"Yeah right!"

"No! It's true I swear…"

* * *

_Earlier…_

Pulling my black sweater over my head I wondered why on earth I had agreed to go out for food tonight.

It wasn't that I didn't want to, because I did. Even if my friends were nosy, violent, rude, loud and altogether just _weird_ I still grew up with most of them and they had never pissed off on me no matter how weird I was. I owed them that much, right? And I hate being in debt of any kind.

I used to enjoy the pizza nights that had become tradition in my group of friends, looking forward to them even. But now more than anything I grew terribly anxious over them, avoiding them as much as possible. I suppose that much had become obvious, which is why they were so determined to get me to go tonight. I'd caved in partly because I'd wanted to and partly because the words "back" and "off" were foreign to my schoolmates.

Inspecting my appearance in my mirror, pulling my belt on and trying to tame my hair (uselessly) I thought perhaps it wasn't so normal to be so afraid of doing something I've been doing for years.

I knew it was natural instinct to eat, to nurture oneself. I also knew what I was doing was technically considered to be putting my body into starvation mode, terribly unhealthy.

I didn't know _why_ I did this to lose weight when I knew it was perfectly possible to do it the "healthy way" - A healthy, nutritious diet, regular exercise, plenty of fruit and vegetables and maybe a personal trainer. Or something.

I don't quite know how or when it became so inherently wrong to eat, how calories became scary and how the number of kilograms defined me, how food became unclean and being thin was purity. I don't know when it became wrong to want to take care of myself, to feel okay with myself. I knew I was making myself sick like this – it had gone way beyond trying to make myself healthy, I didn't care about that anymore.

But I couldn't go back to how I was before, completely uncaring about food and diet like a regular teenage male; it was like some distant fading memory. Furthermore, what reason did I have _to_ go back? I was still fat, still disgusting, my job wasn't done. I think maybe I deserve this treatment.

After all, what kind of friend was I? What kind of brother was I? A terrible one, I mean really, if you look at it. And I'm not trying to be self-pitying either, it's the truth. In all my relationships with people I was emotionally detached, I wasn't particularly kind even to my closest of friends and, lets face it, I was the most self-centered person I knew. Everything I had done to this point in my life has been for my own selfish gain, stepping on whomever the hell I needed to.

These things that had before never bothered me, because it seemed that people accepted me for being such and I accepted myself.

But, in retrospect, they seemed like irredeemable flaws now. It was stupid, really. I knew I was being stupid and irrational and I should shut up because _this is all so ludicrous_ but I couldn't stop thinking it.

Giving up on my helpless hair, I grabbed my phone from my bedside table and started texting to Naruto, my fingers swiftly pressing the small buttons of my phone like it was second nature.

_I'll be there in 20. For gods' sake be on time._

I couldn't stand the _ily c u l8er, k thnx bai_ style of writing that seemed to litter every text I received. I haven't spent my entire life being educated to write like I was an illiterate halfwit, no matter how convenient it might be. Closing my phone I grabbed my wallet, shoving it into my back jean pocket and fished out my keys from under a pile of clothes on the floor. I knew they would be there, organised chaos, that's all it was. Not mess.

Coming downstairs I saw Itachi sitting at the dining table, laptop on, typing away as usual, the bright light of the computer shining on his focused face. He'd been inundated with work lately, completely snowed under with paper work, poor guy. I felt kind of weird about leaving him alone but he'd already had the dinner I'd made for him, so he was looked after, I think. Relax, I thought to myself, he knows how to look after himself.

"I'm going out."

"Oh? Where to?" He asked, looking up.

"Pizza with they guys, I won't be home late," I said nonchalantly, like it was nothing, as if ridiculous anxiety wasn't eating away at me. Up until recently it _was_ nothing, but nonetheless Itachi smiled, seemingly glad that I was "returning to my old self". Trying not to feel guilty, I gave a wave and I was off.

* * *

My friends were idiots. Tolerable, but foolish idiots. Whilst I didn't find flicking bits of garlic bread at one another particularly hilarious, it was somewhat amusing to see the team gang up on Naruto for instigating the mini food fight. He still hadn't gotten all the cheese out his hair.

It sometimes makes me nervous to think about friendship, about what it means, about what it means to me, what it means to them and if any of that even matters, and should it matter?

There had been a time, right after my parents had died that I'd refused to speak to any of them and they became nothing to me, I didn't want anything to do with anyone but my big brother.

The unsteady hand of friendship from children had hardly stacked up against the grief that had swallowed me, the grief I couldn't seem to let go of.

Seeing Neji at that time was probably the hardest, seeing him and his family reminded me of nothing more than my own predicament. At 8 Neji and I had probably been just as close as Naruto and I were now and after countless efforts of pushing him away his Hyuuga pride had gotten the better of him and we were distant for some time. I would have done the same, who wouldn't? How could I blame an 8 year old for thinking _if you're going to be a bastard then who needs you?_

We'd made up over time, but it was never the same and I guess we're both okay with that. It made nervous to think that I'd come to value these friendships over time when I had so strongly denied and protested against them not that long ago. I wasn't quite sure how I should feel about these things.

I should stop feeling guilty about the fickle nature of my childhood, up until recently I'd passed it off as being a kid but something in my mind kept pointing it out as one on my irreparable flaws. How ridiculous is that? I knew it an absurd notion that had no real bearing on the present and yet my head was running at a million miles an hour telling me the opposite. Why was my thinking so out of control?

"Are you sure you don't want the Meatlovers, Sasuke?" I turned to stare at the foolishnotsoloveableidiot and raised an eyebrow; this song and dance was beyond being unfunny. Was it really so amusing to see the same reaction over and over again?

"Are you sure you weren't dropped on your head as a baby, dog breath?" Kiba just gave a toothy grin and shook his head, ignoring the jibe as usual as he leaned deep into the red leather seating.

I think our group was beyond being hurt by the name-calling, it happened so frequently and with such fervour in the war to out-insult one another that it lost all edge. And in the war, my vegetarianism was a favorite point of attack from those thought the idea of abstaining from meat was hilarious. I'm sure it was hilarious in the beginning (to everyone else) but I'd passed the annoyed stage, the angry stage, the slightly irritated phase, the over it phase. Now names like "hippie" "tree-eater" and "pale-faced bitch" were almost as endearing as schnookums and honey-bun. A little bit _off _and odd_,_ but almost endearing. I'm sure after all my shit there are worse things they could say to me.

"Don't worry," Naruto interrupted, "he'll come around and realize what he's missing someday - If not there's always force-feeding." Turning my head to the side I saw a cheeky expression flitter across his face and I smacked him half playfully, half annoyed upside the head. I knew he was joking but the idea of force-feeding was distinctly unpleasant for a few reasons, memories of being drip-fed entering my mind intrusively. But Naruto didn't seem fazed, so I dropped the subject quickly; he just stuck out his tongue and blew a raspberry. Very, very mature.

"Oh your wit _astounds_ me," I said sarcastically and began picking at the cheese of my pizza and chewing the tiny pieces slowly. I was one to prefer my own cooking but these wood-fired pizzas were amazing. I was entirely too tempted to pick up the pizza piece by piece and devour it as fast as I could because _it smells so good and it is so tempting_. Naruto opened his mouth to shoot back some retort when Kiba gets there first.

"_As _I was saying before, that eyebrow guy just came up to Gaara in the change-room and just starts hitting on him! Like fully going at it!" He exclaimed, laughing at the memory as if Gaara wasn't there, sitting to his left. Said red-haired just shook his head and punched Kiba in the arm "...and- ouch, Gaara, shit!"

"You moron. He wasn't hitting on me," the red-head spat but offered no other explanation. Kiba just looked at him as if to say _oh whatever girlfriend! _minus the clicking of the fingers and the stereotypical voice and continued.

"Oh that's right he wasn't all _Oh Gaara,_" he mimicked, putting his hands on Neji's arms, pretending to feel him up, "_Can I borrow your towel Gaara? Do you want to go out sometime Gaara? Do you want to go to feel my– _Jesus Christ Gaara, stop hitting me!_"_

The red head just remained expressionless, sighing as if he was bored already. He probably was, he had even less patience for their antics than I did. But he still put up with it like a trooper; the violence was something I could approve of. I'm sure he was capable of worse.

Kiba was starting to speak again; mouth flapping about something that vaguely sounded like _oh you should have seen the two-lovebirds_ before Gaara swiftly backhanded Kibas' outstretched hand holding a half-eaten pizza slice, causing the food to smack into his face. The group laughed (except Shikamaru, who just groaned at the commotion) as thick sauce and cheese covered his mouth as he blinked in shock.

Caught off guard by the action the dog enthusiast had a mildly surprised expression for no more than a second before he wiped his mouth on his arm and shoved the smaller boy.

"Asshole." Gaara only smirked; satisfied he'd gotten under his skin, before looking blank again. The red head was no push over, to the delight of some, to the annoyance of others, particularly Kiba, the biggest shit-stirrer of them all.

Not interested in getting involved, I looked around at my surroundings, mainly too keep my attention away from the food in front of me, and observed the people sitting in the booths around us.

People were strange. Some took large bites of their food, tearing at it with their teeth like an animal on a carcass. Others took tiny or medium sized bites, chewing, chewing, swallowing. Drink. Bite. Chew. Swallow. Others ate messily, leaving smears of sauce and grease on the sides of their mouths, on their lips, their clothing. Some were meticulous in keeping themselves neat, wiping the corners of their mouth with their white napkin after every miniscule mouthful.

People would laugh and speak with their mouth full of food, chewing, chewing, looking more like wild animals than the highly evolved, _highly civilized_ species we all claimed to be.

But the worst thing of all was the sounds that we make when we eat. If you block out everything else and focus on the sheer noise that comes out of all our mouths when we masticate you come to realize how revolting it all seems.

But I wasn't doing that. My stomach rumbled, greedily begging for more than the bare minimum it had received today. Two mouthfuls of a salad sandwich and a stick of celery.

I was drawing my attention back to the greasy Italian food before me wholeheartedly, contemplating _should I, shouldn't I?_ The pizza smelled like better times, looked entirely too enticing and I was so sick of thinking about food, I wish my brain would just shut off and function on empty.

Would a little bit hurt? _I want to be normal._ Just a little bite. _Don't be an idiot. _But it smells so good._ You're disgusting._ I'm so hungry. _Don't you dare touch that!_

Before I really knew what I was doing I was giving into the sensory sensations that had bombarded me since I'd walked through the door by lifting up a slice and biting into it. I savored the first bite, intending to have only that, but my taste buds were in overdrive, my stomach asking for more.

Before I could get a hold and stop myself, I would bite into it again and again and again. I would finish the slice.

But my hunger wasn't satiated, a little bit _wasn't_ enough, it tasted so good and I hadn't had this in so long and I just wanted more, just one more. Lift, bite and finish, I was feeding my monstrous hunger slice after slice and just for a moment my brain stopped working, I stopped feeling and it was great.

This went on until I felt my stomach become very bloated, full, a feeling that I hadn't felt in a long time.

Stopping and looking down I'd realized I'd eaten at least 2 thirds of my pizza and before I could think about what I'd just done a deep panic settled into my stomach, making me feel sick. My mind cranked itself up again going at full speed, feeding on my panic, becoming unreasonable before I could stop it.

What have I just done? I've just ruined everything, all the days of restriction and exercise and resisting temptation, I'd been doing _good_. How many calories had I just consumed? How long would it take to burn off? What have I just put into my body? Why did I do that?

Anxiety clutched at my stomach painfully with an iron fist, creeping it's way into my veins, pinpricking me. This wasn't something I could just ignore or exercise off; I had to get rid of it.

Under the table I clenched and unclenched my fists, worrying. I had to get it out because it was making me feel sick and guilty and horrible and disgusting. I _had_ to get it out, didn't I?

It felt heavy and oily in my stomach, reminding me of everything I'd just consumed – countless calories, saturated fats and god knows what else - I'd just fucked all my efforts up. I felt like I'd fallen asleep in an exam that I'd studied a month for.

Shit, what have I just done? You are so fucking disgusting, why did you do that? A heavy guilt laced through my body, gripping my thoughts, making me feel ill.

Wiping my mouth with my napkin and taking in a large mouthful of water, I slid out of my booth and stood up.

"Need to piss. Be back in a few."

* * *

**A/N:** I'd like to thank everyone for their kind reviews and being patient with me. This chapter was a pain in the ass, I'm not completely happy with it but I don't think I ever will be. That's okay.

This was officially the end of Orexis, no more, but the Leptos compilation will continue, but it might be a while because I have exams coming up.


	4. A Ray of Light

_

* * *

_

A snapshot of Christmas Eve in Konoha

* * *

"Could you _be_ more gay?"

"…Huh…? What are you talking about?"

"You look like you've abducted the Mardi Gras."

Sasuke roved disapproving eyes over my apparent distasteful choice in clothing, muttering under his breath his astonishment and his wonder if I was colour blind.

"Oh lighten up, Scrooge. My outfit is awesome."

Indeed, it was awesome, if by awesome you meant the best quickly thrown together Christmas outfit ever. Loud, _tight_ orange pants were the first immediate visual treat, leading ones eye only to trail upwards in amazement, I'm sure. Up further a too tight red shirt with a jolly Santa Clause face over my chest causing the face to stretch to the point of hilarity. The final touch was, in one lone ear, a dangling Christmas tree earring, bright flashing lights and all.

Like I said, awesome.

Sasuke didn't see it that way though and yeah, _okay_, maybe green knee length hooker boots aren't totally classy. But that's okay, he had the fashion sense of a 40 year old anyway, therefore any judgment he has is null and void. Who wants to wear black and gray all the time, how boring! Taking fashion advice from him was like learning punctuality from Kakashi-sensei. Ignoring his slurs of _tacky _and_ eyesore,_ I grabbed his elbow and demanded to greet those had arrived before me.

The Uchiha's held a Christmas party annually. It was mostly Itachi's fellow workmates using his house as an unofficial Christmas party function but Sasuke usually used this opportunity to gather his closest friends around himself and celebrate the merry season.

Okay, that's a lie; Sasuke would rather drink acid than do something like that. _I _use it as an opportunity to invite myself (and others) over to stir up some festive cheer. Because Christmas is not a time to feel sad, but to celebrate! And I beg the question, _what_ would Sasuke be doing if I weren't here? Moping. Sulking. Brooding. I mean really, it's a win-win situation. I get free food and he gets the pleasure of my company.

I _love_ Christmas. Yum, is there alcohol in this punch? I sip it slowly to test, but I can't tell, it's too fruity with no real twang. I try it again, taking in a bigger mouthful and accidentally spill a bit on my shirt.

"Is there alcohol in this punch?" I ask loudly over the music and chatter, my eyes seeking out any familiar face. Sasuke only mutters darkly in reply, I couldn't hear it but I thought he said, "I'll give _you _a punch…" but that can't be right so I tried to clean out my ear with my finger and asked again.

"_What_?" And he just shrugged, what a grinch, would it kill him to smile for even half a second? Probably - Oh look there's Hinata. All thoughts of Sasuke being a holiday hating freak were forgotten as I yelled out loudly to the shy girl, waving my arm up and down. "Hey, Hinata!" Not giving her time to acknowledge me, I bounded over to her dragging Sasuke along with me, giving no thought of his physical well being and narrowly missing the coffee table. Oh look, sheppard's pie…

"H-Hello Naruto-kun…"

"Hey, have you tried the _punch_?"

* * *

Boy, I ate so much I think my pants might split - the Uchiha's really know how to cater, although I'm sure it would be some sort of tragedy if they were seen as less than perfect. God forbid…Anyway. 12 mini mince pies, 3 slices of fruitcake, Kiba, Neji and 2 hours later I was well and truly ready for dinner. In the middle of my (mostly one-sided) conversation with Hinata, Princess Sasuke took advantage of my distraction, mumbled something about a headache and disappeared upstairs, what a terrible host.

Sighing noisily, I took it upon myself to retrieve the maiden from her tower. The guests were quickly beginning to relocate into the dining room (were there even enough chairs?) in preparation for the main course. As much as I was filled up from the hors d'oeuvres a homemade Uchiha dinner was not an occasion to be missed. Ever. For that I would always make room.

Footsteps heavy, I plonked my feet up the stairs trying to make as much noise as possible, opening Sasuke's door widely upon reaching it. I'm sure he might've appreciated a prior knock but I didn't bother, I'm sure he'd get over it. The room was dark but when I squinted I could see the outline of Sasuke's body lying on his bed from the light of the hallway. You'd think he were allergic to light with the way he avoided it.

"Dinner's ready!" I shouted, forgetting about his headache. Peering in the darkness, the only reply I received was the faint visual of Sasuke picking up a pillow and placing it firmly over his head. Anti-social bastard…. yeah well two can play at that game. Flicking on the light switch and blinking for a moment while my eyes adjusted to the change, I waltzed over to the resting Uchiha and sat down abruptly on the bed, startling him. Grabbing the pillow from his hands I grinned at the messed up hair and the annoyed glare I received. Oh how cute he thinks that still works on me.

"Rise and shine! Didn't you hear me? I said dinner's ready."

"Yeah I _heard_ you," he snapped taking the pillow back from my hand and placing it over his head again. Sigh, why did I choose to have such a difficult best friend? I guess it didn't really matter – Sasuke was mainly all bark but no bite. Sure as hell he could bite when the time came but for all his tough façade he was as tame as a kitten. A bitchy kitten.

Snatching the white, fluffy offender back, I threw it to the other side of the room feeling a sense of satisfaction when I heard it hit the wall. Now if he wanted it he'd have to get up. The dark haired teen sat up and rubbed his eyes, grumbling into his hands.

"_Loser_."

"Bastard. You do this every year."

"Maybe it's just your voice giving me a headache," he spat back, trying to tame his dark hair with his hands. When he'd started primping I'd knew I'd won.

"Maybe you're just a hypochondriac… So where's my present?" I asked, getting up off the bed to give him room. Sasuke rose from the bed and smoothed down the creases on his impeccably clean clothes. He raised an eyebrow at me, crossing his arms over his chest in a manner that was terribly smug and so very Sasuke.

"Who says I got you anything? You know, with the way the economy is going, gas prices and all that, money is tight…" He replied, smirking. Yeah yeah, whatever, we'll see about that! In arrogant prick language that really meant _this is a_ _fuck you for waking me up_, I should know, I'm fluent.

Either way I dropped the subject, letting him have the upper hand for now, he'd lose it later. Walking past him I leaned against his doorframe and roamed my eyes over his form appraisingly. The subject of his "problem" had been dropped since the Bathroom Incident a few weeks ago, his promise of talking about it never being fulfilled. Asshole, I knew that would happen and he probably thinks I forgot. Now that the heat of the moment was gone I didn't want to push it when he was so easy to anger these days.

Unease and sickly anxiety began to simmer in my blood as I noticed his spine outlined under his black shirt as he bent over to pick up a stray sock. He'd lost so much weight again, too much weight. I just don't _get it_. How could he not see what I see? How could he not see the severely underweight, skinny boy that he was? I don't get it. How could he be that stupid?

"Hurry up or your tofurkey will get cold," I complained, wanting to think of other things. I mean, how long does it take to put on some socks? The other boy stood up and ran a hand through his hair again, not helping it any.

"I'm sure I'll live."

"Yeah but I wont. I'm missing the prime bits of meat!" Sasuke just glared, expressionless as if he didn't know what to say to that. What's with being a vegetarian anyway?

"I didn't ask you to."

"Yeah well I wanted to so shut up and let's go." He just rolled his eyes and downstairs we went, both of us trying to trip over the other as we made our descent.

* * *

Any concern that I'd felt before was not extinguished in any sense of the word. I'd been watching the pale teen out of the corner my eye, watching him cut his tofu into tiny pieces, not eating them, pushing his food around, looking not happy to be here at all. He probably wasn't and I'm sure it wasn't just his genetic lack for Christmas cheer that Itachi seemed to possess too. Weirdos,who doesn't love getting presents?

Chewing roughly on a roast potato I nudged Sasuke with my left elbow discreetly under the table and kicked his shin just for an unnecessary addition, he was too easy to shit-stir. This snapped him well out of his mood and I received the heated glare that I was hoping for. An annoyed Sasuke was a hundred times better than a sulky Sasuke.

"So Sakura invited me to stay at her house after Christmas…" I began.

"Mhmm…"

"Why'd they have to move that far? Anyway she asked how you were," I continued, mouth now full of asparagus. Everyone seemed too immersed in their own dinner and conversation to notice my less than fantastic table manners.

"What'd you say?" He asked, trying not to sound too interested, fooling no one, okay just not fooling me.

We'd grown up together with the pink haired girl and she became like a sister to us, well to me anyway. But when we were 14 her parents needed to move a few towns over, 4 hours away, in order to maintain the family business. Maintaining friendship, at that time, became difficult too, but we try. Email, letters texts, phone calls, whatever line of communication is convenient at the time.

I know he must've been sad, too, when she left, all three of us had been close. As much as he said he didn't care, Sasuke could be as transparent as glass, as much as he tries to hide it.

"That you're fine and exams went well. She asked if you wanted to come too." At this Sasuke was silent, probably contemplating whether or not he would or wouldn't go, although I couldn't see _why_ there was a debate at all if he missed her – which even under pain of death he would never admit to. But for now I'd just mark it as the never-ceasing weirdness that is Uchiha Sasuke.

"I'm - "

"I already told her you're coming," I interrupted, not giving him an opportunity to refuse like the antisocial freak he is. Yeah, he'd probably be pissed that I agreed on his behalf but I'm sure he'd get over it and maybe thank me in the end. Okay he'd never thank me for it but I'll settle for quiet acceptance.

"Thanks a lot moron, what makes you think I'm not doing anything else?" He asked quiet, but angry, his fist clenching his chopsticks tightly. I scrunched my nose and made a face at his poor attitude. Seriously, it wasn't _that _big a deal.

"Well are you?"

"No, he's not," spoke Itachi from the head of the table. Sasuke's head shot up faster than a bullet as he stared at Itachi dumbfounded. Itachi had changed a lot when I'd first met him. No longer was he the adolescent with no worries, but a young adult with too much responsibility. He acted a lot more like a parent than an older brother nowadays. I wonder if that bothered Sasuke. It must be hard to lose both your parents and, essentially, your brother in the same day.

"But I thought you needed me to help fix the - "

"It's okay, don't worry about it. I'll manage," he spoke, interrupting Sasuke for the second time.

"Are you sure?" The younger Uchiha asked, uncertain. He'd finally set down his poor abused chopsticks and gave his full attention to his brother, probably trying to gauge his intentions.

The elder brother nodded and gave a small smile. "Yeah, it'll do you good," he affirmed, slipping seamlessly into the fatherly role. Recognizing this, Sasuke just rolled his eyes and knew better than to question it in fear of more weird fatherly brotherly advice. Their dynamic was so strange – Sasuke was the too mature child and Itachi was some bizarre father-brother-mother fusion. It was fun to watch, but it had ended too soon, with Itachi listening to his work mate Sasori moan about the finer details of handcrafts and Sasuke staring at his food.

"So that's that!"

"Whatever," replied the skinny teen, disinterest lacing his voice, and we left it at that. I was glad that he was going to come, however coerced, and I grew a little excited; it would be like old times. I think he might have thought that too – looking out the corner of my eye, although his facial expression remained the same, I saw a light shift into Sasuke's eyes that I hadn't seen all night. It was finally something familiar to look forward to, something I'm guessing neither of us had had in a while.

Returning to my plate I continued to chow down the rest of my meal, this was definitely mostly Sasuke's cooking - despite his appearance he was a champion in the kitchen. That's the _only_ thing I would ever admit him beating me in, everything else is my domain. In my peripheral vision I could see Sasuke doing the same, picking up little bits of food, bringing them to his mouth and swallowing them - _actually eating them. _

It was really slow and it looked like each bite might as well have been razors going down his throat. I could almost see his internal argument.

A warmth blossomed in my stomach and spread rapidly to my chest and I hid a smile – from I could see it looked like he was actually making an effort, something that I hadn't seen in too long. No tricks or charades, it looked like he was actually _trying_ and _that_ was the best Christmas present he could have given me.

* * *

"Here, loser."

A square object flew at me, hitting me in the chest and falling into my lap. Looking down I saw an impeccably wrapped gift, a label on the top reading '_To: Idiot, From Sasuke'. _

After dinner I'd dragged Sasuke and Kiba to the living room, sat on the big cushy couches and we talked and laughed about the year that had been and the year to come. Okay that's not completely true, _Kiba and I_ talked and laughed while the Uchiha just listened, nodding and raising an eyebrow here and there. At least it looked like he was listening, maybe he wasn't, oh well no big deal. As soon as our friend had left to go home Sasuke had shown some sign of life and walked over to his massive Christmas tree, throwing me a present from underneath it. Haha, I knew he lied upstairs but act humble, act humble…

"Aw you didn't have to…" _But I'm happy you did_

"Whatever. Are you going to stare at it or are you going to open it?" _I wanted to._ Standing up from his kneeling position he walked over to the sofa I was on and sat next to me, his shoulder warm next to mine.

Too content to argue I shrugged and began unpeeling the sticky tape off the wrapping paper at the sides torturously slow, feeling black eyes watching me. Next I began to gently remove the bright seasonal paper uncovering a small black box no bigger than the size of my hand, it was very light too, I almost wondered if this was a joke and the box was empty. Nevertheless I opened it cautiously, trying not to look too hopeful.

"…Oh my fucking god," I whispered, looking down at the contents.

"…They were some of the last…"

"Oh my fucking god," I repeated, wide eyed. In my very lap sat two ground seat tickets to _40 Seconds to Jupiter_, my favourite band. I'd done nothing but pump their music as loudly as possible from my car, my room, my headphones…I owned the shirts, the hoodies, the wristbands... "Sasuke, these are mosh tickets…"

"I know," he said, confused.

"No, Sasuke, they're _mosh_ tickets. As in close enough to be hit by the sweat coming off of Lared Jeto mosh."

"I know…"

I looked to my side to see a slightly amused Sasuke and - now sure that this wasn't his idea of a joke – my face broke into a grin and whatever I did I couldn't seem to get it off my face. I was happy, presents or no presents it had been an awesome night, this was just the icing on a very ecstatic cake. Not caring, I slung my arms around his shoulders and planted a wet kiss on his cheek, still grinning like a fool. He elbowed me in the ribs but I could tell by his face that he was relieved that I was at least _pleased_ with his gift. As if I wouldn't be! He could give me coal and I'd probably still be happy knowing the he gave a crap, even if it were only a little. But he went all out, these weren't cheap.

"I got sick of hearing that you couldn't afford them, dropping hints like that…" he chided, but I knew he was only teasing. Well, half teasing at least.

"Thanks so much…wow, this makes my present to you look like crap…"

He rolled his eyes and looked away, perhaps embarrassed. "Yeah well, I figured this year I probably owe it to you…" I shook my head, rejecting the idea that he owed me anything.

I really loved Christmas. It reminded me of old times and for a small while people dropped grudges, thought of others and things that changed reverse - if only for a little while. In spite of the hard year that had passed and how things had changed, how relationships had altered and the tough things we'd been through it gave me hope.

Hope that not all change was bad or permanent, that good things were to come and that even though the old Sasuke was hard to find he was still somewhere in there underneath the monster that was _eating disorder_.

With this newfound faith I was determined, dead set on finding old Sasuke again and when I did I'd hold on tight and wont let go. Maybe I was just a stupid, hopeless optimist but right now I didn't care. Tightening my grip on the arm around his shoulders, I was resolute - Things could be the same again, things could change for the better.

Giving up the struggle of shoving me off the couch Sasuke slumped his shoulders and sighed in (what I'm sure was) defeat. We sat in a peaceful silence for a few minutes, watching the flames of his living room fire flicker and rage before the quiet was broken.

"…But seriously, doesn't that outfit embarrass you?"


	5. I Found A Penny

**A/N:** The obligatory filler. How not exciting. While this is still a collection of one-shots I deem this filler boring and necessary for emotional progress. Updates from the next chapter onwards shall be very slow. I'm, going to Japan for a month and then starting University, so time will be limited. But thank you again to those who have reviewed.

**For those who've asked about romance, **fear not there will be some coming, fairly soon.

* * *

_A snapshot of a day in the life of Sakura Haruno_

"They're here!"

I'd been watching out the window for the past hour, refusing to look away in the hopes that the boys would perform some miracle and arrive here early. Glancing at my watch for no more than I second I wasn't surprised to see that they were in fact _late_ by one hour, 45 minutes and counting. What could I say? Boys would be boys and boys were physically incapable of being on time. Frustratingly so.

As soon as the thought was perished a sleek black car rounded the corner and drove up slowly on the gravel driveway, coming to a stop with a screech.

Grinning widely I left the window, almost tripped over my own feet, and before they could even get to the door I'd ran outside and thrown my arms around them. Better late than never.

Gathering my bearings I squeezed my arms around their necks while trying to stay upright. I let them go, stepping back to take a good look at them, still trying to contain my grin. Goodness, they looked so different.

It had been nearly 6 months since I'd seen them last, half a year. While we'd kept in touch as much as possible it wasn't the same as seeing them in person. I'd missed birthdays, celebrations and all the little stuff you laugh about. It just wasn't the same anymore, but at this moment I was happy, they were here now and I was going to make the most of it.

Naruto caught my eye first - how could he not with that shocking blond mane? He looked like he'd grown an inch or two but he still looked like same old goofy Naruto, except for one small thing.

"What's this about?" I asked, laughing as I ran my thumb over his stubble-covered chin. He just smiled bashfully and rubbed the back of his head, ruffling his hair.

"I dunno. Thought I might try it out and see how it looks…"

"It looks stupid," Sasuke interjected coolly, taking off his sunglasses and sticking them into his jacket pocket. I hid a smile as Naruto gave his friend the finger and made a face. God I'd missed these two idiots.

"Well it's really good to see you," I cut in, throwing my arms around his shoulders and patting him on the back. Turning to Sasuke I did the same before he could step away from it, my arms fitting easily around his frame. I frowned, under his thick coat it would seem that Sasuke had changed too.

"Hey, have you lost weight?" I enquired, pulling away from him. I was privy to a small glance between the two boys before I was treated to a rare and small reassuring smile from the dark haired teen.

"A little. End of year exams," he offered as his only explanation. I just nodded and smiled, knowing how much of a perfectionist Sasuke was when it came to his schoolwork. Sleeping and eating were only a secondary necessity to him especially at exam time, studying being first priority of course. He was such a nerd.

Well we'd have to remedy that wouldn't we? Clapping my hands together I decided to get things underway, after all we only had three days.

"So grab your stuff and I'll take you to the guest room. You have to tell me _everything_ that has been going on…"

* * *

"You're shitting me…"

"I shit you not."

"You're telling me that frigid old Neji, _our_ Neji, actually had human contact… with _Shikamaru_?"

Naruto lay to my left, the three of us on the sizeable guest bed, nodding and laughing. The whole mattress rumbled with his throaty cackle and I couldn't help but laugh along too. The last 2 and half hours had been very much the routine of: tell a story, question its absurdity, laugh and tell your own story, repeat. From what I could tell it seemed like everyone was moving on and growing up with no major dramas or mishaps.

"Dude, you shoulda' been there. They were so drunk…" I snickered too, but couldn't help the feeling of resentment slowly growing, wishing my parents hadn't made me move. Sure, I'd made plenty of friends in my new town – but I felt as if the perpetual title of New Girl would never fade. Everyone had a history of some sort with one another like I did with the other kids back in Konoha, old jokes, old stories. As much as I'd assimilated in with my new peers I'd always felt like an outsider. But there are worse things, I suppose. If that was the worst I had to complain about then life wasn't as bad as it could be.

"What 'bout you?" Inquired Naruto, leaning over to rest his head on his hand. "What's it like here?" I put my hands behind my head and snuggled further into my pillow while contemplating my answer. Was there a right answer to give? I love it, I hate it, I miss you guys but I actually have great friends here.

"You know, it's not as bad as I thought it would be. Starting at a new school sucked and all, but everyone's pretty cool…." I trailed off, not knowing what else to say.

"But is there actually anything to _do _here?"

To my right Sasuke extended his arm over me and punched the blond in the shoulder followed by a scolding "_Don't be so rude." _

"Yes, _actually. _In case you haven't quite noticed, this town is nearly twice the size of Konoha. You wont be bored." He stuck his tongue out and reached over me to retaliate to Sasuke, punching him back roughly in his shoulder. I brought my arms down from behind my head to elbow them both in the ribs, signaling an early end to what would probably escalate into something more violent than I could be bothered to stop.

"Honestly, children," I mocked. "If you boys can behave yourselves, I'll give you the grand tour tomorrow."

"As if you wouldn't anyway," Sasuke snorted. I sighed, it was true. Boys. I was about to make some tired remark about the astounding immaturity of the male gender when a soft knock on the door interrupted me. Not waiting for a welcome the door creaked open and the eager face of my mother appeared from the opening. For the fourth time in the past half hour.

"Are you _sure_ I can't tempt you boys for a snack? Sandwiches? Biscuits?…Coffee then?…No?"

Oh god how embarrassing. The boys shook their heads with a polite _no thank you Mrs. Haruno_.

I was hoping she wouldn't be so clingy while they were over. Seemingly unperturbed she just continued to smile and reminded us that dinner would be ready in an hour and left us. I blushed at her intrusive behaviour, she wasn't usually like this.

"I'm sorry," I apologized on my mothers' behalf. "Dads away on business, I think she's just bored."

I was brushed off and dismissed and suddenly I felt stupid for thinking they'd care. Neither of them _had_ mothers so it probably wasn't half bad for them as it was embarrassing to me. But really, if they wanted to take her off my hands I don't mind sharing.

Sitting up I started biting my fingernails, the unease of my mothers growing attachment slowly subsided as I realized how much I missed these two. They were my _boys_. I flopped myself back down into a lying position between them and smiled.

"You know… I really missed you guys."

"Oh _god…" _Sasuke muttered, sitting up and getting off the bed, stretching. "Can we skip this part?"

Naruto rolled onto his elbow and grinned at the Uchihas' apparent dislike for anything sentimental. "In bastard language that means _I missed you too, never leave me._" Sasuke only rolled his eyes.

"Oh yeah and what does this mean?" He asked, sticking up his middle finger in a rude gesture.

"It means you're trying to compensate for something," and before he could laugh at his own crude joke a pillow had been thrown at his face.

* * *

"This looks delicious, Mrs. Haruno."

"Oh thank you dear, it's nothing really…"

Nothing was definitely something.

Before us lay a breakfast that could serve a small village and in the back of my mind I couldn't help but wonder if she'd emptied out our pantry in her efforts. Piles upon piles of pancakes, bacon and eggs, toast (white, multigrain, wholemeal, brown) and various cereals littered the table, leaving little room for the occupants to eat.

Looking over the top of the ridiculous feast I questioned what she'd been smoking – the four of us were nearly dwarfed by the sheer size of the spread, and it only _was _the four of us. I looked at my mother in incredulity as she gestured for us to begin eating, smiling. What happened to my goofy, _just eat leftovers for breakfast _mother_?_ I know things have been hard on her lately but…

Stacking my plate with pancakes I looked over at my guests, making sure that they were well fed. Though I doubt they'd have trouble.

"How was the guest room, boys?"

"Good," came the standard polite reply in unison.

"Not too uncomfortable?" One shook his head, the other shrugged. I hated small talk. I coughed and took two pieces of grain toast.

"So, Naruto, what happened with the face? The whiskers were growing on me…" I asked, spreading butter thinly on the bread. Looking bashful he rubbed his chin and stacked three pancakes on his plate.

"Well, I liked them too but Sasuke said it was prickly- " _thud _"- Oww! Ah, what I meant to say was it was getting itchy…yeah…. don't ever grow facial hair…" he trailed off, finishing awkwardly. I stared at him for a moment, before sticking the toast in my mouth, chewing slowly. I decided to ignore him, his weirdness beyond my capabilities to figure out. Switching my attention to Sasuke, I spied his empty plate and his narrowed eyes at Naruto. Had something happened?

"Not hungry, Sasuke?"

He looked up, startled for a second. "Oh, yes…" he replied, grabbing a slice of plain, unbuttered wholemeal toast. He ripped off a corner and chewed slowly. I stared at him as I had the blond. Boys were just so bizarre, especially in the morning.

"So what have you and the boys got planned today, dear?" My mother asked, her creepy smile never leaving her face.

"Just showing them the sights, mall, movies, whatever comes up…"

"That's lovely…"

I sighed and reached for another pancake, smothering it in syrup. I crossed my fingers and toes hoping that Naruto and Sasuke wouldn't ask about my newly acquired stepford mother.

* * *

In the luxury of Sasuke's car we'd whizzed past the old historical buildings, visited the more exquisite temples, viewed the lake and hopped around all the inner hot spots of the town. Currently (upon my request) we were in the local mall, sipping coffees in the cafeteria, looking oh so sophisticated I'm sure.

Reaching over the round table I grabbed Naruto's earlobe with my free hand and twisted his stud earring around a bit. The fake blue jewel sparkled in the artificial light.

"I fucking love that you have your ear pierced," I told him, smiling widely. He mirrored my expression and downed the rest of his coffee.

"You don't think it makes me look too gay?"

I tried not to smile and tried to put on a sympathetic face, placing my hands over his on the table I told him: "Naruto, _nothing_ could make you look more gay…"

"Hey!" He cried tearing his hands away and pouting as I giggled, Sasuke smirked into his foam cup. I patted his hand and became more serious again as I reached for my coffee, only glad that unlike our mutual friend he could take a joke. It wasn't that I didn't appreciate Sasuke's seriousness, but he was always just so intense about everything, he never let himself relax. Naruto on the other hand was probably _too_ relaxed.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding," I cajoled**. **"But seriously, do you think I'd look good with a piercing? Maybe a cute little stud in the nose…" Naruto shook his head firmly. I frowned and looked to Sasuke for his approval but he just stared, as if to say _why the hell would you do something like that_. Why were males so clueless? When you ask if you bum looks big in your clothes, the answer is _never_ yes.

"Why not?"

"Your face is pretty enough, Sakura-chan," he mimicked, patting my hand, "besides, your mother would have a coronaryif you started putting holes in your face." I shrugged, it's true. I could almost envision my mother paling and fainting from the shock from any body modifications I'd have. I could almost hear her say: _Now how are you going to get a job looking like that?_

"Who's got holes in their face?" Rang out a teasing voice to my side. Turning sharply a beautiful image filled my line of vision. 6-foot tall, soft wavy brown hair, creamy skin and the greenest eyes I'd ever seen. He smiled down at me and patted my back and I couldn't help the blush that rose rapidly to my face. My cheeks felt like they were on fire, why didn't I buy a cool drink instead?

"Having a good holiday, Sakura?" The vision asked, his white teeth gleaming. I nodded nervously, any witty or cool things I had to say lodged themselves in my throat, refusing to be spat out. An awkward silence ensued as I failed to reciprocate anything resembling a conversation.

"_Okay…_WellI guess I'll see you back at school then…?" More silence "…take care of yourself, Sakura." I again nodded dumbly, my mouth refusing to open. With another hearty (sympathetic?) pat to my shoulder he was off and my complexion sizzled back to it's usual colour. Once I was sure that he was completely gone I slumped my shoulders and banged my head onto my outstretched arms, groaned loudly. You _idiot_. That boy was the most gorgeous guy in my new school. Not only was he insanely good looking but he was actually _nice_ and funny and not some pompous prick who _knows_ he's all of the above. The one time he speaks to me I act like I'm brain dead, nice going.

Naruto laughed.

"Was that your _boyfriend_?" he teased. I kicked him hard from underneath the table.

"What'd you do _that_ for?" Sasuke's voice rang out, irritated, and before I could look up I'd been kicked back in the shin with Sasuke's boot. It hurt.

"Sorry, I meant to kick Naruto."

Unfazed by my violent intentions (or maybe he wasn't listening) the ramen lover made a face, frowning as he considered something.

"You didn't even _introduce_ us Sakura."

"He's not my boyfriend, dumbass," I spat back, pouting. How embarrassing this was turning out to be. Grabbing my handbag I gestured for the other two to get up and leave, now that our "break" was over. Eager to forget the past two minutes I set my sights on a clothing store I'd been eyeing - and really, the boys needed some new outfits, even if it meant dragging them by their ears and paying for it myself…

"But you like him," Naruto countered, knowingly pushing his luck. At this I decided that I had selective hearing and conveniently ignored anything else on the topic. I linked my arms around Naruto's and smiled cheekily at him – I hope he was tired by now because tonight was late night shopping and I planned to shop for _hours._

* * *

Friday night barbeque dinners in our home were tradition. Every Friday night we'd all pitch in our efforts, invite our closest friends over and make a night of it, music, movies, a few people would get drunk but it was all good fun. Of course tonight was a bit different, Dad not being here and having two additionals, but that was okay.

Taking the role of the General in the kitchen I'd ordered the non-meat eater to work on the garden salad, Naruto to watch the potatoes in the oven (because anything else might be a disaster) while my mother and I worked at the barbeque**.**

"What do you think of nose piercings, Mum?" I asked as casually as possible, turning over a sausage and squinting my eyes as smoke rose from the grill.

She snorted loudly while turning over steak. "Trashy, Sakura. Never get one please." I nodded, dropping the subject, crossing that thought off my list at least until I turned 18.

Fifteen minutes later the four of us were at the dinner table, feeling our plates, pleased with our culinary efforts. With a mouthful of his proudly watched potatoes, Naruto made an attempt at table conversation.

"So when is Mr. Haruno expected back?" Clearing my throat anxiously I shrugged, replying it depended on the success of the venture. After a few moments of silent eating the subject was forgotten, but the silence would never last long with the blond around. "I still can't believe you bought sixteen shirts between us. You shouldn't be allowed in those stores," the blonde complained.

I cocked my eyebrow and waved my fork in his general direction. "Are you kidding me? Every piece of clothing _you _own, Naruto, has a hole or a stain on it – and everything Sasuke owns is like four sizes too big for him!" Stabbing an innocent slice of cucumber I looked back up at him and shook my head. "You two were like walking fashion disasters."

Sasuke raised an eyebrow and Naruto threw his hand to his forehead dramatically, crying out _God forbid_, before quiet reigned once more, if only for 5 minutes. On the opposite end of the table, Sasuke had set down his knife and fork on his plate and respectfully declared he was finished, thanking us for the meal. Naruto muttered darkly under his breath and Sasuke glowered at him. Wow, if looks could kill…

"_Don't_ start," he spat, stern. "Now's not the time." He walked over to the sink and rinsed his plate before putting it in the dishwasher. What was this about? What were they arguing about _this_ time? It was difficult to keep up in their never-ending war of being best friends and worst enemies simultaneously.

"It's never is, is it, Sasuke?" The dark haired teen didn't answer, didn't even acknowledge he'd said anything.

My mother cleared her throat, trying to ease some of the tension. "…Is everything alright?" For a few moments no one answered, Naruto simply turning his head stubbornly. Sasuke eventually took the initiative.

"Sorry, Mrs. Haruno. Everything's fine, I just need some fresh air." And with that he left the kitchen, out to the front porch. I was again completely oblivious and for the nth time that day I felt out of the loop, like a third wheel. I looked at the blond questioningly, wanting an answer to what was obviously a tired argument. But he just shrugged. Liar.

Wiping my mouth with a napkin, I excused myself and followed after the Uchiha. I didn't need to look far for him - He sat on the front porch, huddled in his black jacket, texting on his phone. At hearing the door close behind me he pocketed his phone. I sat on the step about a foot away from him, nervously tucking a strand of pink hair behind my ear. I didn't know how bad his mood was, whether he'd talk or shut me out completely, he was unpredictable like that. I plucked up my courage and went for it anyway.

"So…what was all that about?"

He shook his head, staring out into the darkening front yard. "Nothing."

Disbelieving, I nodded anyway. He knew it was bullshit, I knew it was bullshit, but I didn't call him on it. "You want to talk about it?" He shook his head no finally with some predictability. Stupid question - What did I expect, really? I'd been out of his life too long for us to click into sharing and caring, not that he'd ever really opened up to me in the first place. Maybe he needed to learn to trust me again. We sat quietly for a few minutes, listening to the calming crickets chirp as the sun set, casting an orange glow on us.

"You know how I said my Dad was away on business?"

"Mhmm…"

"He's not." I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding and stared at my feet. I could feel his dark eyes on my face, wordlessly telling me to continue. "He left Christmas night and he hasn't come back" I wiggled my toes, "I think they're splitting up."

There I said it.

"Is that why your Mum is so…?" He trailed off, obviously unable to find a polite adjective for her robotic behaviour. I nodded and made a face at being reminded of all things weird and wacky.

"Sorry to hear that."

"It's okay. I just want you to know that you can talk to me, you know?" I heard him stand up and brush of his clothes.

"I know," he replied, sounding tired. I stood up and followed him inside and as I observed his retreating back I wondered what the hell those two were keeping from me – and whether or not it was still my place to know.


	6. This Is What I Know

_Many people assume eating disorders happen when someone wakes up one day and decides that they're fat. They think that we decide on this way of eating,of exercising and that this is all something we can control. Unfortunately there is something a little more sinister and serious than a distorted body image when someone develops such serious habits and feelings. _

_Honestly, when it comes right down to it, I really couldn't give a damn about food and calories and my weight._

_There is something in my mind that distorts my emotions and perceptions that makes food, calories and weight the main problem so I don't have to feel. So I don't have to face the real issues. I don't even know what the real issues are. _

_But I did know that I could lose as much weight as I wanted and it would never be enough. I knew that I was slowly killing myself and I didn't really know if I cared enough to stop._

* * *

It was night two of the-trip-that-was-much-more-effort-than-I-originally-thought-it-would-be. This extra output of energy was largely attributed to certain dim-witted people who couldn't get a clue if it danced naked in front of them.

"Seriously, what is your problem?"

People like Naruto for instance. Not only was he particularly clueless when he wanted to be but he was particularly persistent in his cluelessness too. Annoyed, I sat up on the queen sized guest bed, throwing the covers off me in a huff. "At the moment, you are."

"Why?" the nasally voice asked angrily, sitting on the other side of the bed. "You were just fine with sleeping in the same bed last night!" Turning around and glaring at him in the dark, my anger swelled, perceiving his pushiness as a lack of tact. Why did everything need to be an issue with him?

"That was last night. I changed my mind."

"Why?" he asked again, heat lacing his voice as he threw his hands up in the air. "I don't have germs you know."

I sighed, irritated, and tried my best not to raise my voice in another person's home. "_Because_, halfwit, it's weird," I explained this as if it were obvious, raising both eyebrows, hoping he could see it, or at least get the gist in the moonlit room.

"Because you're my ex?" He asked and I was glad, thinking his mind had finally clicked and understood for once.

"Yes."

"…Sasuke…that's fucking stupid. We've done a shit load more than share a bed before _and_ after we broke up." Wrong, Sasuke, very wrong. I smacked my hand to my forehead, disbelievingly.

"That's why it's weird, dumbass." But the younger teen just shook his head and lay down on the bed, positioning himself until he was comfortable and shifting into the sheets.

"Whatever, man. You can be a prude all you want but I aint moving."

"Fine."

"Fine."

Gathering all the stubbornness I had, I grabbed my pillow and lay myself down on the hard ground. Right now I didn't care if I woke up tomorrow morning half-frozen or with a sore back, I had a point to make and I was going to make it. From above I could hear Naruto yawn and rustle beneath the covers.

"…Do you want a blanket?"

"No thank you," It was the principle, really. I was satisfied that I had now asserted it.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Silence. I yawned.

"So what did you and Sakura talk about after your hissy fit?" I rolled my eyes at his delicate phrasing of the nights events. As delicate as a bull in a china shop.

"Sex, drugs and alcohol," I replied as seriously as I could muster. "We were planning on ditching you to go get high with her friends tomorrow. You don't mind, do you?"

"Ha ha," he said dryly, "What, no orgy?"

"Only if there's time."

"Make sure to take pictures."

I nodded, yawning again. "Will do. Good-night loser."

"Good-night bastard."

Turning onto my side my smile faded and I curled up tightly, trying to ease the desperate hunger clawing viciously at my stomach. I would never apologize but I felt like an idiot for getting bad-tempered at Naruto when he was only looking out for me (and particularly when it was my actions that started it). Who does that?

I rubbed my temples wearily and through my lightheadedness I tried to remember why I was still doing this.

* * *

I'd woken up in nearly as bad a mood as I'd fallen asleep with. I'd indeed woken up with a sore neck, a sore back and damaged pride. In fact I'd woken up with a blanket on me that I had not put there myself and Narutos foot inches from my face. How he'd migrated to that side of the bed and in _that_ position I would never know. What was worse is that Naruto deemed it necessary to punish me for last night by following me absolutely everywhere I went. Since my shower this morning I hadn't had one spare moment to myself. Like right now.

Today we'd gone to the local zoo, a modest establishment boasting exotic animals in their faux natural habitats, not too big or small but just large enough to house all the screaming children of the town. Which was just delightful.

After viewing the humid butterfly enclosure, I'd declared my need to piss, which led to this very moment of Naruto chatting me up next to my urinal. I didn't really know what he was trying to achieve - Did he honestly think that I was so obsessed that even my diet coke needed to be thrown up? For the sake of peace I bit my tongue, hoping he would get it out of his system soon enough.

I zipped up once I was finished and washed my hands with their cheap soap, not at all sad to leave the smelly public toilets. The communal shit house – how revolting. Glad to be in the fresh air and rejoining with our pink haired friend I ignored the raised eyebrows as she sipped her drink. Before she could utter a sexually suggestive comment Naruto had beaten her to it, running off in some obscure direction like a kid in a candy store.

"Oh my god, check out the pandas! I think they're _fighting_!" He cried, his face lighting up at the prospect of violence. One would think that after all these years of knowing him that I would be used to his peculiar behaviour. Watching him scare all the children away from his path, cringing, I don't think I ever would.

"So…" spoke Sakura, coming up to walk beside me, fanning her face, "…are you two back together or something?" Oh how subtle. I shook my head no, snorting and she left it at that, thankfully. I don't think I could really explain Naruto's sudden siamese attachment to my person, without lying at least.

"You uh…didn't tell him about what I said last night, did you?" She asked tentatively, drumming her fingertips on her plastic drink cup, staring at a particular sobbing child. I peered to my side and observed her uneasy expression, eyebrows drawn, fidgeting.

"I didn't tell him anything," I told her and her features eased. "Why's that?"

"It's just…you know what he's like. He can't let stuff like that be." I nodded, understanding. I watched Naruto practically bend himself over the fence of the panda enclosure to get a glimpse of the action. That idiot would probably track down Sakuras' father himself, drag him back and demand he take responsibility for his family.

We caught up to our friend still eagerly watching the busy animals. _Was it really that interesting, _I asked myself, risking a look. My eyes widened.

"They're not fighting, Naruto," I deadpanned, "They're mating."

The other boy straightened and looked confused before squinting a closer look. "Oh…._oh._ Haha, you're right. Anyway, lets go see the giraffes!"

I looked at my watch at thanked the higher powers that the zoo was closing in an hour.

* * *

I was incredibly uneasy squirming in my seat trying to ward off the negative thoughts cluttering my mind. I tried to push them to one side, ignore it, but it wasn't working too well.

On our way back to Sakura's house from the zoo we'd stopped by a small Italian restaurant to catch some dinner. I'd gotten away with as little as a salad sandwich, an apple and 3 french fries and calorie free liquids today but knew I needed something extra – or I'd find myself passed out (again) with no explanation but the truth.

I fidgeted with my fingers in my lap, running them over my brittle nails. Roving my eyes over the menu for the fifth time and my irritation grew as I found nothing guilt free. The pastas were covered in sauces, the breads heavy with carbohydrates and the pizzas were laden with calories beyond what I could exercise off. They were _all_ in one fell swoop filled with more calories then I'd set myself for the day.

Furthermore, more than being annoyed at the (wanting) menu I was annoyed with myself.

For the first time I felt well and truly trapped within this eating disorder. I felt incredibly frustrated with the restrictions and rules and paranoia that my mind wouldn't let me break free from. I was sick and tired of thinking: _was skim milk used, what kind of oil is in it, how many hidden ingredients is there, cream, butter, salt?_ It was all just so trivial – I had family and friends who gave half a crap about me and the most important thing in my life was _food_.

I wanted so much to not give a shit about what went in my mouth.

I was torn between being obedient to the restrictions that were safe and the overwhelming urge to just be normal again. As I sat before my friends who were built and average at worst I'd never been more aware of how messed up I was. Half of me wants for it to all go away and stop, but the other half says _you're fat, you need this, why would you of all people deserve to be nurtured. _More than anythingI wanted a break from this constant battle in my head.

"Decided yet?" Asked a bored sounding waitress holding a small notepad.

"Uh, the bruschetta thanks," the pinkette answered, sounding pressured and entirely uncertain.

"Fettuccine carbonara**, **please. With uh…extra bacon if you could…"

The waitress looked at me expectantly, looking as if she couldn't stand another troublesome customer on her shift. My eyes darted madly over the menu for something remotely acceptable, I didn't want a big deal made out of this but I was already feeling anxious. I didn't want to put up with more questions of _how hard could it possibly be_.

"The uh… caesar salad. No egg, no bacon, no anchovies, thank you." I handed her over the menu once she'd finished jotting down the orders. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Sakura frown at me, but I ignored her, if she'd ever ask I'd pass it off as a piss poor place for vegetarians. It kind of was.

"Sorry guys," the green eyed girl apologized as she stood suddenly, "Nature calls", and immediately left towards the direction of the women's bathroom.

"You know," began Naruto once he was sure the other was out of earshot, "I ought to get that bitchy waitress back here and order you a bucket of greasy pizza."

I rolled my eyes and chewed on the ice from my water, refusing to dignify that with a response. Naruto was as predictable as a romantic comedy; he really could never let things be as Sakura said. It would probably be too much to ask to let this go.

"I'm serious though, you look like a rake."

I frowned and all external noise became a dull buzz at his words, apprehension rising. "Well I'm _so sorry_ for not being perfect," I responded sarcastically, taking a mouthful of water to refrain from saying anything more. He looked as pissed off as I felt, narrowed blue eyes and a heavy scowl. He took a bite of his complimentary bread roll and chewed roughly.

"That's just it," he swallowed, "that's why I don't get why you're doing this. You're fucking _gorgeous_ you idiot."

I shook my head, rubbed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my noise wanting to quell the sparks in my stomach. I really didn't feel like getting into this argument again here and now. Or later. Or any time, really. I hated this emotional stuff.

"You can't just say that shit, Naruto."

"Why's that _Sasuke_? Because we're not together?"

"Yes."

He was silent for a moment. "…Well then lets get back together!"

I choked on my water.

After a minor coughing fit I glared heatedly at the cause. "_What?_ Are you stupid? You broke up with me - or can't you remember that far back?"

"Yeah, I know. But I- "

"You what? You're lonely? Sick of your hand?" I retorted, my tummy doing funny things that had nothing to do with hunger.

"Let me explain - "

"Sorry I took so long!" came a breathless Sakura, sitting down at her seat, fanning her face with her hand. "I ran into a school friend at the sinks and we got chatting."

"Another one? You're so popular Sakura-chan," Naruto teased, still looking at me. I stared back, completely lost and unsure what to make of any of it. My stomach did painful flip-flops and butterflies battered madly against my rib cage trying to figure out his intentions. The girl looked between us, confused.

"Did you two fight again?"

"It's all good," the blonde teen dismissed with a wave of his hand. "We were just wondering how long the food was going to take, I'm starving!"

Maybe it was because I was so hungry, maybe it was because I felt so confused or maybe my desperate want for normalcy won out over my fear this time - When our meals eventually did come ten minutes later, in spite of the suffocating guilt bubbling in my stomach, I sat there and I ate _all _of my salad - despite the voice in my head screaming for me not to.

It doesn't sound like much and it took me half an hour to finish it but I felt like I'd run a marathon.

* * *

Forty minutes later I was feeling both proud and sick.

Proud Sasuke wanted to pat himself heartily on the back for getting over that hurdle but Sick Sasuke wanted to scratch the dirty calories out under his skin because he felt filthy. I wanted them both to go away so it wasn't even an issue. I tried to focus on the passing scenery as I sat in Sakura's back seat and not think about it too much.

"…what do you think?…….Sasuke?"

"Hmm?"

"I said I was thinking of growing my hair out again, what do you think?"

"Don't care."

"Thanks, that was really helpful," she laughed, turning the wheel left into her street, bopping her head along to the catchy radio tunes.

As we neared her house, we slowed to a crawl. "Hey, whose car's that?" asked Naruto, pressing his face against and fogging up his window. Sakura's eyes widened and she quickly pulled into her driveway and slammed on her brakes.

"Dad's home," she said, surprised, leaving the car and running in the front door before Naruto and I could unbuckle our seatbelts. I didn't move because I wasn't sure whether or not we should follow her in case there was some awkward family moment. I wanted to avoid that right now more than anything. I didn't care if it were hugs and kisses or yelling and screaming - it was all very ghastly family drama.

"Hey, let's go say hi," said Naruto, unbuckling his seatbelt and opening his door.

"No, don't," I said quickly, grabbing the passenger seat headrest and yanking myself closer.

"Why not?"

"Because we should give the family some privacy."

Naruto was silent for a moment, tapping a finger to his mouth as he considered this. "Yeah, you're right." I sighed internally, relieved. "Let's talk!"

But my relief was obviously short-lived and I groaned, throwing myself heavily onto the back seat, dreading whatever embarrassing things the other boy had to say. "Let's _not_." He must have been selectively deaf because he continued anyway.

"I was serious about what I said before. I want you to be my bum buddy."

I stared, both at his crude phrasing and disbelieving of his sudden change of heart – because, really, it just didn't add up. "Why, because you're single and alone?"

He shook his head heatedly, baby blues blazing. "Don't be such an asshole, you know it's not like that."

Hot embers of anger sparked in my gut at his stupid reply and I narrowed my eyes. "How the fuck do I know that?" I snapped, "All I know is that _you_ broke it off last time." I sighed and rubbed my eyes, really not happy that we were getting into this argument again. "You have no fucking idea how…"

"How what?"

_How much it messed me up_. "Nothing. Point is that you can't just change your mind whenever you want and expect me to go along with it," I said, exasperated. He rubbed his neck and turned his body around in his seat to look at me straight on, his expression as genuine as ever. Oh god this was such a nightmare.

"I regret it, okay? Look, I've wanted this for a while, but… it's…it's never been a good time, you know?"

I wanted to strangle him with his shoelace for sitting on this for god knows how long and for bringing it up now – of all times and places. I grappled for answers and excuses to try and make sense of it. "What about whatsherface?"

"Who?" He asked, mouth twisting in confusion. His convenient lapse in memory was not cute - I was reconsidering interrupting the Haruno family moment that was no doubt happening. I was sure it would be less awkward than this.

"The red head."

"….Oh her? We went out for two weeks six_ months _ago. You were still so pissed with me, I thought I didn't have a chance."

"And now you think you do," I said as a statement, rather than a question. My stomach contorted itself into a painful knot and I bit the inside of my cheek at this newfound position. That doofus enjoyed making my life awkward, I was sure of it.

"Do I?"

"I don't know," I answered truthfully. "I need to think."

With no further ado I removed myself from the car refusing to look at his face, wanting to get away from this uncomfortable situation as quickly as possible. "Tell Sakura I've gone for a walk," I told him before I closed the back door. Throwing my hood over my head I decided to go where my feet took me.

Truthfully I hadn't expected this at all. Why would I have? Sure we'd gone and done the whole friends with benefits thing but I thought that was just a bit of fun, a bit of stress relief in light of being single teenage boys. A little extra on the side for exes who didn't hate each other. Now I had no idea what to make of his feelings, let alone my own messy ones.

In the midst of my confusion I suddenly felt the need to burn off the calories I had eaten today, the crawling feeling under my skin returning at full force. I clenched and unclenched my fingers trying to shake the feeling out but to no avail. Anxiety and shame welled up, storming my mind and I felt like I couldn't breathe.

What in the world had I been thinking?

In the back of my mind I could see, logically, that it was physically impossible to gain weight from salad. I could recognize this as being irrational but I couldn't help but see it as adding to the list of countless calories I'd consumed already. I had to, I needed to get on top of it otherwise I'd get fat again, wouldn't I?

I felt the food festering in my stomach and I was suddenly very aware of my entire body – of my large shape, of every loose bit of skin, of every roll of fat. My legs in particular felt horribly out of proportion, like there were endless kilos of fat dripping off my bones. In this moment it was all I could feel and revulsion welled up, making my skin tingle and I shook out my hands again. It was a repulsive sort of sense and I hated myself for thinking it was okay to have eaten what I had.

_Burn it off, get rid of it. You're so disgusting._

I knew I was destroying any progress I'd made, but the whisper to be normal was drowned out by the scream to be thin, invisible. I broke into a run and vowed not to stop until I was sure that it was all gone. I had to get it out.

God, I hated this.

* * *

Breathless and sweaty and one hour further into the darkening evening, I slowed to a stop. My heart was thudding unbearably against my chest and my lungs ached. I pushed my wet bangs out of my warm face and let myself catch my breath, walking at a leisurely pace. I felt so stupid for needing to run off a salad and I regretted not being able to control my guilt.

I'd had a chance to think on the proposal and still wasn't able to make much sense of it. I know his actions were never out of malicious intent and he is earnest to a fault. So why…?

Was it because I was sick? Was it another plan of his to try and get me to take recovery seriously?

I had no idea. Paranoia wants me to believe it to be just a ploy but rationality says that's stupid and farfetched. Maybe I didn't believe him because I had to wonder what the hell he would see in me that says: _now there's an outstanding citizen_. I wasn't particularly nice to anybody, I made an active effort to insult him, I was terribly antisocial and we fought like cats and dogs.

Motives aside, did I even _want_ to get back together? Well, yes and no. Yes for all the right reasons like emotion and all that touchy-feely bullshit and no because I didn't understand or trust _why_.What's more is that it'd be a blow to my pride if I just eagerly accepted his offer like some lovesick female. He can't just dump me whenever he wants and then expect me to come back to him with open arms because he feels like it.

I sighed, shoving my hands into my hoodies pockets to keep them warm. So the conclusion was that _yes_, I obviously still had some leftover masochistic feelings concerning Naruto Uzumaki, but I didn't trust his intentions at all. Or my own – I mean relationships took so much effort…but I'd decided. Worryingly, nervously, hesitantly I'd decided

Back at the house already, I walked up the driveway feeling a little apprehensive. This day was turning out to be _so much more_ dramatic than I could be bothered putting up with. I let myself in, took off my shoes and before anyone could see me I'd sneaked into the guest bathroom. I relieved myself, washed my hands face to look a tad more presentable – it didn't really work. I wanted to weigh myself (as per my obsessive compulsion) but there was a notable lack of scales.

After I was done I searched the downstairs of the house for everyone else. I didn't need to look hard - They were all to be found (including the wayward father) in the lounge room appallingly cozy on the plush green sofas, watching some flashy, expensive looking movie. I thought it would be best to turn around, pretend I was never there and go have a nap but I'd been spotted before I could make my escape.

"Come watch the movie with us!" Sakura gushed, gesturing to an empty armchair to her left. I slumped my shoulders but sat down anyway, my legs were aching. I avoided looking at Naruto and settled myself down for an unrealistic storyline, cheesy dialogue and one-dimensional characters.

* * *

Two hours a pounding headache later I wanted to put my head in an oven, I'd lost 120 minutes of my life and I wanted them back. It had been so much worse than I thought it'd be – bad accents, historical inaccuracies and tasteless tragic endings. Then there was the painfully melodramatic _I love you's_ and _they'll never tear us apart's_. I wanted to wash my eyes out with soap.

I stood up and stretched. Bidding the remaining Haruno family goodnight I set off to wash my face before bed. Naruto had left the social gathering 15 minutes before the movie had finished and I kind of hoped he had fallen asleep already to avoid any weirdness.

Walking back into the room, drying my face with a hand towel it was clear that I would have no such luck, of course. Having a modicum of luck is too much to ask apparently.

Laying smack bang in the middle of the bed was The Idiot. He gawked at me and I threw my towel at his annoyingly expectant face, smirking when it hit.

"So did you make a decision?" He asked bluntly, chucking the towel to the ground, not bothering to mince words.

"Is it because of the eating disorder?" I asked, mirroring his blunt attitude. I shrugged my hoodie off, throwing it in the general direction of my duffle bag; I couldn't be bothered to check. He shook his head and frowned, of course.

"It's got nothing to do with it."

I twisted my mouth, the sincerity heavy in his voice enough to make me cautiously accept his answer. For now.

I'd decided that maybe I was a desperate loser too eager to accept but for now it would do until he proved otherwise. I was nervous though. I didn't really know what I was getting myself into again - but I'd had enough of calculation and control. I decided that I just wanted to leap and not care where I'd landed for the first time in a long while.

This blind faith was a daunting, anxiety-inducing thought, but I could deal with it. It was as quiet as a dying whimper but I knew somewhere hidden deep under all the negativity and lies, I _knew _that I was so much stronger than this person I've let myself become.

I peeled off my black shirt and threw it wherever it would land, leaving only my black wife beater. I changed into a pair of equally dark baggy pants before approaching the bed.

"Shove over."

The other boy shimmied to the side closest to the window leaving a large gap of space for me to hop in. I was about to make a half-assed joke about how fat he must think I am but stopped myself, thinking how ridiculously inappropriate that would be right now. I climbed in, burying myself under the thick doona cover. I shuffled so I was facing him and gave him a Very Serious Look, but that stupid moron just kept smiling.

"If this is going to happen at all, it's going to be on my terms. Understand?" I said sternly and he nodded quickly, still with that stupid, stupid grin on his face. I continued nonetheless, rubbing my feet together warm them.

"First off, you're not my mother or my doctor. Stop trying to be."

"Well - "

"_Secondly_," I interrupted, "You can't break up with me again. If anyone's going to be doing that it will be me."

Blue eyes narrowed. "Hey, that's not f- "

" - Thirdly," I continued, as if he hadn't spoken at all, "This will have to just be between you and me for a while, okay?"

"…?"

I curled my toes and suppressed a yawn, this was so embarrassing. "You know what people are like. I can't be bothered with it right now." I've got bigger things to worry about; I didn't particularly need Itachi on my back about extra emotional complications. The blond teen shuffled closer and laughed.

"You drive a hard bargain." I rolled my eyes and kicked his shin for joking around when I'm trying to be serious; I was too way tired to put up with it.

Not to be outdone he kicked me back twice as hard - that little shit. I grabbed his outstretched hand resting on his pillow and started bending his fingers backwards, knowing how much it hurts and wanting to have the last laugh. His eyes widened.

"Ow, ow, ow," he whined before bringing his mouth closer and biting my offending hand firmly, refusing to let go. Well if that's how he wants to play it…with my free, uninjured hand I grabbed a fistful of his hair as close to scalp as possible and started pulling hard.

"Let go!" came his muffled yelp and he started kicking again, this time with both legs. As his barrage of feet veered closely to sensitive areas I maneuvered my limbs, trapping his legs with my own then twisted my body so I was straddling his knees. If someone were to walk in right now I'm sure they'd assume the position was intimate – my hands in his hair and mouth, me on top of him legs knotted together. It was far from it.

"Let _go_, bastard!"

"You let go first."

He seemed to contemplate this for a second first before biting down extra hard, breaking the skin and letting go. I untangled my fingers from his hair, slid back in my original position and inspected the damage to my hand in the moonlight. From what I could see small indents were appearing and it was bleeding a little bit. I wiped his residual saliva on his pillow. Yuck.

He grinned at my disgust and before I could stop him he'd inched closer and kissed me on the lips.

"Good-night, prick," he laughed against my lips before pulling away.

I glared darkly at him, settling myself further into the soft pillow. "Good-night, dumbass."

When I was sure he was comfortable I kicked him once more, to be even.

* * *

**A/N**: Oh the angst. But Sasuke's thinking is slowly, but surely changing. Thanks again everyone!


	7. Soft Sheets Shuffling

_A snapshot of blond teenager with an angry urinary tract_

* * *

I really should not have drank two liters of soda before bed, I thought to myself in retrospect.

Drinking two liters of soda before bed meant I had to tiptoe around the house, in the dark, at three o'clock in the morning without waking anyone up while I went to the toilet. It meant I woke up at an ungodly hour with my full bladder in pain, begging me to go into the cold night and relieve myself. So it probably wasn't the best decision I'd made. Maybe. I'll take it under consideration.

Me being me, I'd managed to trip on a pair of shoes, walked into a wall and closed the bathroom door on my fingers (which was followed by a long string of curses). This being despite the fact that the bathroom was directly connected to the guest bedroom.

Goddamn it's freezing out here.

Finishing my business I flushed the toilet and washed my hands, amusedly watching the soapy bubbles grow and pop with the movement of my hands. I slicked my hands and rubbed them together, making bubbles as big as I could but then I realized that I was wasting water and so I rinsed my hands and turned the tap off.

I wonder if I could sneak into the kitchen and make myself a cream cheese bagel without waking anyone up. Probably not, but that's okay, I can wait till morning.

Tiptoeing back into the bedroom I wasn't at all surprised to see Sasuke still asleep even with all my noise. He was such a deep sleeper that a nuclear bomb could go off outside and he'd just snore and roll over. I walked over to my side of the bed but stubbed my toe on the bedpost so I nursed it for a few seconds before hopping in.

I snuggled into the soft sheets, shuffling closer to the Uchiha and wrapping my arms around his skinny frame, my chest meeting his back - knowing all too well if I tried this when he was awake I'd get a punch in the face and a kick to the downstairs regions. My body parts and I would like to avoid that as much as possible thanks, I actually quite enjoy having genitals that function.

Potential castration aside, I grabbed his outstretched hands and smiled a little against his neck, stupidly happy that I hadn't been rejected. I knew Sasuke and he had a sharp tongue and a painful bite, he could've torn me to pieces and stomped on the leftovers if he wanted to. I wouldn't have blamed him if he had, I probably would've too if he'd done what I did. He's not particularly forgiving either.

He would never admit it but he'd just made a huge leap of faith and I didn't want him to regret it.

And I knew that things weren't going to be easy from here on. In fact, if anything, this would complicate matters. I think we both knew that but we needed to be proved that anorexia was something we could both withstand, and for Sasuke that it isn't as strong as he thinks it is. I mean, I'm smart and I knew it wasn't. That makes me smarter than Sasuke, haha.

Yawning I let my body calm down and shut off, ready to deal with the physical (and no doubt painful) consequences of my closeness in the morning. For now I was just glad that at least in a small way things were getting back to normal.

I had almost completely drifted off before Sasuke turned over in his sleep and elbowed me in the face.


	8. Something Beyond Blue

"Uchiha Sasuke?"

"Yes."

"Nice to meet you, I'm Tsunade."

A rustle of papers. "Your doctor has referred you to me for your eating disorder, is that correct?"

I nodded.

"Why don't you tell me a bit about that?"

"What's there to tell?"

More paper rustling occurred before the blonde woman found what she was looking for. "Ah. It says here that you've been through three psychologists and been hospitalized twice in the past year."

"What about it?"

She shrugged, unperturbed. "Sounds serious."

"I guess."

"Does it worry you? That your body isn't coping?"

"Sometimes."

"Okay," the sound of scribbling. "Was that your brother you were sitting with outside? Why don't you tell me about him."

I sighed. "Well…"

* * *

_"You didn't have to come, you know," I sulked, fidgeting nervously while I waited for my name to be called. The small room was quiet, save for the small television blaring the local news and the tick tick of the wall clock. The brunette receptionist was overly cheery and the waiting room chairs were as stiff as a brick wall. My back was aching from being forced into an upright posture and I was almost regretting coming here. I was entirely uncomfortable._

_"Don't be like that," he insisted, nudging my shoulder "Who else was going to make sure that you actually go in?"_

_I ignored him and flicked my eyes over to the wall clock. The therapist was five minutes late but that was nothing unusual of course. In most of my therapy experiences, after their last patient the psychologist or psychiatrist would spend an extra 5 or 10 minutes going over your case, your clinical notes, their notes. They forget things. The system was overcrowded._

_"You nervous?"_

_"No." Yes._

_"I can go in with you if you want…"_

_I looked at him incredulously and resisted the urge to shuffle to the next seat over. "No, really. Don't." I was nervous enough as it was without the idea of Itachi being able to hear every word I say. The last thing I wanted was for my brother to hold my hand throughout the whole thing. It was nerve-wracking enough just sitting in this room purely due to the fact that this visit was 100% voluntary._

_I wasn't in the hospital system, no one was making me go, my accountability was my own responsibility. There was no nurse hassling me about going to sessions and threatening to take away my privileges if I didn't. I had called up and made the appointment myself. This time with a private therapist – not some overworked hospital shrink with too many patients to keep track of._

_The clock ticked into 10 minutes late._

* * *

"Mhmm, yep. Okay. So does your brother do a good job of looking after you, do you think?"

"He does his best."

"What do you mean by that?"

"…I just mean that he's got a lot on his plate. He works full time, he pays the bills, he runs the house himself and then he has me. He does what he can."

"Ah, okay." More writing on the large notepad. "So, would you say you two get along well?"

"I don't know. I suppose. I mean we have our fights but we get over it."

"Good, that's good. What are your fights about, usually?"

I thought about that for a moment. "Sometimes it's just little stuff like who lost the remote or left the milk out, but I don't know. I guess it's more about me these days."

"About you?"

"What I eat. What I don't eat."

"Okay," she nodded in understanding. "Does that annoy you?"

I shrugged again. "Yeah."

"Why?"

"I'm old enough to take care of myself."

"He seems to be very protective of you," she commented "has he always been like that?"

"I suppose. Probably more so after our parents died…yeah."

"Mhmm. So it looks like Itachi has taken role of both big brother and authoritarian. How does that make you feel, that sort of change?"

I squirmed uncomfortably in my seat, feeling naked in my candidness. "Like a child, like a bother. I don't know."

"Has he ever said to you that you were a bother?"

"No. He doesn't need to say it."

"So, why do you think you feel like that?"

"Because. He's the same as me, his parents died too. He was put into a worse position than me and you don't see him starving himself."

She cocked her head to the side, before she wrote some more notes. "You know, people deal with their grief in different ways. Whether it's their work, their hobbies, whatever."

"I know." Thank you Freud.

"That's good," she smiled. "If you're comfortable with it, I think we'll talk more about you and your brother at a later time. Why don't you tell me about your friends?"

"Like what?"

"Are they supportive?"

* * *

_An unwritten rule of life is that first day back to school sucks. It always does, every time, without fail. New teachers, new fresh faced, terrified students, the reunion of friends and the ever-depressing prospect of one more year. What joy. My only remaining hope was that this year would fly by faster than the last without half the troubles. One can wish. Strolling down the halls, the sounds of hundreds of shoes tapping against the linoleum floor echoed in my ears and the smell of fresh paint filled my nose._

_"I know your secret" Came a whisper to my side. "…Not that it was much of a secret anyway because you two are about as obvious as a big rainbow flag."_

_I turned and raised an eyebrow at Inuzuka Kiba who just grinned toothily at me in return. But I wasn't really fazed so I looked at him unworriedly. "You know you're the fourth person to tell me that today, right?"_

_It would seem that he wasn't fazed either, I noticed, as we stopped at my locker. "Yeah, well Shikamaru figured it out first, who told Neji who told Gaara who told Shino who told me. I just thought if they hadn't rubbed it in your face yet then I would."_

_"How sweet," I said indifferently, putting my combination into my lock, opening it. I dug around in my personal pigsty ignoring the other boy who had taken to staring at me - Where in the world had I lost my Biology textbook this time? My attempts at disregarding his existent were shattered when a jacket covered arm shot out, narrowly missing my nose as it slammed onto the locker next to mine. Oh here we go. I rolled my eyes at his macho tough-guy attitude and turned my body to face Kiba. He had on his Serious Face. How wonderful._

_"Can I help you?" I asked, sarcasm dripping._

_"You know that if you hurt Blondie we'll kick your ass, right?"_

_I snorted. I wanted to rub my forehead because oh god, the cliché was hurting, but I didn't._

_I couldn't tell if he was serious or just trying to look cool – Either way I didn't hesitate to resume my ignoring and search for my textbook wanting him to take the hint. I wasn't to dignify the stupidity with an answer. Why were they picking on me anyway? From my memory I was the one with the clean record here._

_He huffed impatiently, retracting his arm to fold it over his chest. "Did you hear what I said?"_

_I waved my hand in his general direction, frowning as I found what looked to be like a very old, smelly sock right in the corner. How did that get there? "Yeah, sure. Can't wait." I slammed my locker shut, giving up on the search for my Bio book (I'd just borrow Gaaras') and walking away in the direction of the science labs._

_"Wait - "_

_"Bye," I yelled back cutting him off. His voice was irritating and grating on my nerves - he had that sort of effect on people. I squirmed through the flock of students, hoping to get to class early enough to get the back seats near the window. I'd nearly reached the room before something particularly dumb and blonde bumped into my right side and stood on my foot._

_"Hey watch where you're -! Oh Sasuke, it's just you," came a familiar nasally voice. At the recognition Narutos face went from once of anger to surprise. So much for getting to class early. I frowned at him._

_"You're on my foot."_

_"What?" He looked down, "Oh whoops. Sorry."_

_"I'm sure," I replied dryly._

_"Anyway," he continued, "You'll never guess what happened earlier."_

_"Mhmm,"I appeased, sounding not at all interested, looking at my watch, making sure I could spare a minute. 10:45. He was lucky - this time._

_"Well I was just sitting innocently in first period, doing my work - " Cough, hack. "When all of a sudden Gaara passes me back a note saying, now get this: 'If Uchiha gets hurt so do you.' I mean, what the hell?"_

_I feigned a cough and smirked behind my hand, silently marveling at the efficiency of our friends. "Really? How strange…"_

* * *

"Well it sounds like you've got good friends."

"That's one word you could use. Obnoxious is another."

"Well, they've stuck around this long haven't they? I'd say these are keepers."

"Sure," I placated, not wanting to go further into this topic. I didn't care for analyzing my friendships – things were the way they were and I liked it like that.

"Alright, let's get an idea about your eating. How many calories would you say you limit yourself to daily?"

"It varies. Right now about 500."

"Why that number?"

"…I don't know…"

"That's okay. Do you have a goal weight?"

"Just until I'm satisfied."

Her pen was put down and she looked at me softly, smile fading. "I know you're a smart kid, Sasuke. But you and I both know you'll never be satisfied. It's always just one kilogram more, just one more, isn't it?"

That's what scares me.

"I know. That's why I'm here."

"I'm glad. That's a start, as long as you have a will recovery is always possible."

* * *

_My chest hurt and I could hear my heart thudding loudly like a drum in my ears. I couldn't move my body._

_Today was the third consecutive day I hadn't eaten and I'd felt my stomach eating itself, desperate for fuel._

_I'd felt it clawing, screaming, twisting. I'd felt the blood drain from my face and the increasing heaviness of my limbs. But I hadn't stopped._

_Despite my ever-growing weakness I'd stupidly pushed myself into running 3 kilometers this morning and set myself a goal of 150 crunches._

_I'd gotten to 112 before I'd passed out cold on my bedroom floor._

_When I'd come to every part of me was aching and I couldn't move. My limbs felt like lead, every part of me was shaking, my heart agonizing with each painful beat. I felt like someone was sitting on my chest and the idea that I was so weak that I could literally not pick myself up of my floor scared me. Oh god I can't breathe. What had I done to myself? What have I done to myself?_

_In my growing list of fears I'd hoped to god that Itachi wouldn't come in at this moment and find me looking like this. What's happening to me? What have I done?_

_Suddenly feeling afraid and overwhelmed, I turned my head, burying my face into the crook of my outstretched arm and tried to stop the flow of tears I knew were already starting to burn behind my eyes._

_I took in a deep shuddering breath and I knew. I can't do this anymore._

* * *

"How did you fare at inpatient?"

"I had the time of my life."

"That bad, huh? The hospital system is completely useless, isn't it? They fatten up their patients, send them out and a month later they're back in."

"Mhmm…"

"Can you tell me a bit about why you were sent there?"

"The first time?"

"Yep."

"I passed out in front of my school. Someone obviously found me."

"And the second time?"

"I hadn't eaten for over a week. And because I'm a minor…" I trailed off.

"Itachi had you readmitted?"

"Yes."

"How did that make you feel?"

"Pissed off."

"Why did you feel pissed off, Sasuke?"

"He was ruining everything."

"What was he ruining?"

"The weight loss, the exercise, everything. It's none of his business."

"Why not? He's your brother."

"Because he's only doing this because something's wrong with me. He wouldn't give a shit otherwise."

"Ah'k, I see. Does it annoy you that the only time he gives you attention is when you're sick?"

"I don't need his attention."

"I didn't say you did. I'm just wondering how it makes you feel."

"I don't know."

"Alright, we'll leave it at that for now. But while we're on the subject of support, why don't you tell me how things are on the romantic front?"

"In terms of…?"

"Well you're obviously a very handsome young man. Any girlfriends…boyfriends?"

"Just Naruto."

"Just Naruto, okay. And is he supportive?"

* * *

_"What are you doing?"_

_"I'm jogging with you, duh."_

_"I can see that."_

_"Then don't ask stupid questions."_

_I spluttered and stopped my movements at his insinuation. Wiping my sweaty brow I stared at Naruto incredulously, thinking perhaps that it was far too early to put up with him. He stopped too, his face flushed with exertion._

_"It's your day off. Go back to bed," I coaxed, deciding that it was in fact way too early to deal with anyone._

_"Stop trying to get rid of me," he laughed, unzipping his jacket, warm from the unseasonably hot weather. I wasn't happy that he hadn't taken the (tempting) bait and so I crossed my arms over my chest. Here we go again. I roved my eyes over him and tried to gauge his intentions._

_"What are you scheming now?"_

_The teen straightened his posture and pouted at the accusation and questioning of his innocence. I fanned myself with my shirt collar while waiting for him to get over his charade, distractedly wishing that it wasn't so hot today. It made it harder to think._

_"I'm hurt, Bastard. Why can't I just want to spend time with you?"_

_I snorted. "Because it's six o'clock in the morning. On a Saturday."_

_He shrugged and dropped his façade, a mischievous smile spreading over his face. "Okay, you got me." Bored with our stationary position we began walking aimlessly, following wherever the footpath took us. I sniffed my shirt and realized how badly it needed a wash. When was the last time I did laundry?_

_"And?"_

_"And okay I know it sounds totally off and don't get mad when I tell you this, but…" He took a deep breath and spat out his next words quickly, "I was kind of hoping I could catch you off guard, trip you over and you could sprain your ankle or something."_

_I stared._

_"Or twist it or whatever."_

_For the second time that morning I stopped moving and gaped at the pure idiocy before me, all thoughts of laundry long forgotten. "You what?"_

_"Uh, um yeah…" he trailed off, laughing nervously, ruffling his hair. "Anyhoo, now that that's out in the open, move your skinny ass and keep going."_

_I threw out my arm and grabbed his jacket, halting his movements. "Not so fast. Now why the fuck would you want to do that?"_

_"Because."_

_I smacked him upside the head, scowling deeply. What the hell?_

_"Because…?"_

_"Because you never stop fucking moving. You're running, you're jogging, you're power walking, you're cycling. Why can't you just sit down for once? Have a cup of tea, watch a movie, relax. It won't kill you."_

_I groaned, turning around and heading back in the direction of home, not caring if he was left behind. "I am not having this argument again. Seriously."_

_"But -"_

_"No."_

_"I'm trying to - "_

_"Not listening."_

_"I want - "_

_"Don't care."_

_"Let me finish asshole!"_

_I refused to slow down and have the same conversation over and over again. "So that you can tell me that I'm over exercising? That I look like a cancer patient? I got the memo, thanks, bye."_

_I was stopped when a sweaty hand with a firm grip tugged my shirtsleeve. The other looked into my face and scowled at my standoffish behaviour. I mirrored his expression. Irritated beyond belief at the mornings events I wanted to just go back home and go to bed._

_I didn't know whether I was angrier that he wanted to interfere or because this is what our so-called relationship had degraded into. I wanted something more than this. Why was this taking over every aspect of my life?_

_"I'm sorry for giving a shit about you. It's just that I don't know what else to do anymore, you know? Put yourself in my shoes for a sec, will ya?" He rubbed his cheek harshly and shifted awkwardly. "Hospital hasn't done shit, therapy clearly isn't doing you any favours…what would you do if it were me?"_

_Exhaling and crossing my arms over my chest, I craned my neck to look up. Not a cloud in sight, just blue blue blue. "You are the dumbest person I've ever met," I replied, "Your version of therapy is breaking my leg?" I was torn between being flattered by his (retarded) thinking and embarrassed that this was the (retarded) guy I was dating._

_"Well when you put it like that…" he said, tapping his finger thoughtfully against his chin and also turning his eyes skyward. "Oh well, I'll just have to think of something else." With that he threw an arm around my shoulder and grinned as we began walking again._

_"Get off me."_

_"No, I'm quite comfortable thank you."_

_I stomped on his foot and elbowed him in the ribs. He let go, but not before pulling my hair and kicking my shin. All was well._

* * *

"He sounds caring."

"The correct term is clingy."

"But you're still with him?"

"…Yeah."

"Good. You're going to need all the support you can get. Recovery isn't easy."

"I know."

She smiled. "That's good. I'm happy with what we've discussed today, Sasuke. If you're comfortable with this pace, I'd like to talk a bit more about the things we talked about today next time. Are you comfortable with that?"

"Mhmm."

"Good, I'd like to see you next week at the same time if that suits you."

"That's fine."

We both stood up and walked toward the door. "Great, well it was very nice to meet you Sasuke. You have my personal number, you can call me anytime."

* * *

_With shaking fingers I grasped the business card and dialed the number written on it. I was half hoping they wouldn't pick up, half desperate they would._

_Ring ring…ring ring…_

_Three weeks after Naruto told me he wanted to break my leg I'd woken up one morning and thought I was having a heart attack. My entire body had seized up in pain and before I could stop I'd thrown up all over my floor, I thought I was going to die. Really, I'd always known that this was a certainty of what I was doing to myself. I couldn't keep this up forever and expect to live to old age._

_It had scared me, the clear extent of the damage my body had suffered and the unchanging fact that I'd done it to myself. But the feeling and the pain passed and I'd ignored it, pushed it to the back of my mind. I went about my life, school, exercise, food food food, breathing._

_Until it happened again this morning, except this time it was worse. It was so much worse._

_This time I was found in a pool of my own bloody vomit and they thought I was going to die too. He had come to surprise me on Valentines morning but I guess I was the one who gave the surprise._

_This time it was different, after seeing his face, after the thought of death became a cold reality it hit me. _

_I finally wanted something beyond this._

_I don't want to die._

_I'd previously contemplated approaching recovery with this fear as my driving force. After my second hospitalization, I'd tried to think of recovery as a means to an end, as something that would keep this from happening, dying that is. But that sort of thinking never got me anywhere except back where I started. Nothing had changed, frustratingly so. I didn't want this for myself.  
_

_It didn't hit me, really hit me until today, it wasn't clear, nor was it something that I had wanted until now._

_It's not that I'm afraid of dying that I'm making this decision. It's because I think I want to live. I need to want to live. I want to live and be a whole person. Not be afraid of death and just exist. I want to be able to have some semblance of normalcy, to live to breathe to function without having every part of my life plagued with this. At the crosscraods I knew this was the right decision.  
_

_My conviction was weak, but it was there, small and wavering. But I had to hold onto it. Even just for this small moment I needed that small part of me to believe that this was the right decision. Because if I didn't then maybe I wont wake up the next morning.  
_

_"Hello, Konoha East Medical, this is Shizune speaking. How may I help you?"_

_"Yeah, hi... I'd like to make an appointment with Tsunade."_

* * *

Just something a little bit different. And yes, it's totally rushed, I'm not happy with it but I wanted it out before my holiday.

Anyway. I'm off to Japan now, so don't expect another chapter for another 3 or 4 weeks. Thank you again lovelies.


	9. Things I Don't Know

I don't remember when the last time was when I could look at myself and say it's fine. I don't care. It's not important.

It's been so long since I could look at another person and have the judgement to say I am skinner than them, I am fatter than them, I am the same size as them.

The distorted tint over my eyes has been there so long that I don't remember when I began seeing things differently and why it all of a sudden mattered. I don't know why calories became more important than the classroom or when the fear of gaining weight completely enveloped every other fear and insecurity I had. Maybe the shift in focus was so gradual that I didn't even notice. With an older, albeit dimmer, perspective reopened I noticed now. I'm remembering what used to be, what should still be, and what is important to me.

Mid year exams were looming, peeking its face around the corner with a frightful expression. Whimpering. Simmering. Final year exams of any sort were a stressor to any student. I wish I were an exception.

Along with the added workload, increased study time and general anxiety, it also marked my first 6 months in treatment.

Although the milestone pales in comparison to those who have spent years in treatment, it appeared to be quite an achievement for me. This is the biggest commitment I've ever made to myself in a long time. Should I pat myself on the back for a good effort? I was torn between feeling proud for my longevity and pathetic for needing to be in treatment this long. Was I really so messed up that even six months of weekly therapy sessions has only made a dent?

I think many people, after they get over the fact that food is not a cure, assume that therapy is the be all that ends all with eating disorders. Therapy is not the pill that takes away the headache. Therapy is the masseuse who tries to work out the kinks and knots in your shoulders to prevent the headache. It works for some, with varying amounts of time, it doesn't work for others. It's what makes eating disorders so hard to treat – each patient has different needs in terms of treatment, its never one size fits all .

With that in mind, it's been anything but a smooth road, I remember as I fasten my red tie around my neck, adjusting it so it sits neatly. There have been countless sessions, I can recall, with Tsunade where I didn't talk, didn't show up or plainly outright told her I didn't want to see her anymore - that I didn't need help. It was times like these when _that voice_ was particularly strong, saying _you don't need this, she's full of lies, what do you think you are doing you stupid boy_. Every now and again I find I am able to shut it out, to overcome it, but not all the time. I find that in doing so every day is a constant battle. Sometimes I win, sometimes I lose.

Mostly, I find that I don't like losing.

I shrugged my green jacket over my white long sleeved shirt and fastened the buttons, reminiscing on Tsunade's advice to me.

Fairly early on within our sessions she'd asked me to identify the negative voice as something beyond myself. As something that was not a part of my personality but rather as a manifested extension of my negative side, insecurities and unresolved issues. Like a tumour. It was a less than charming thought.

It was a bizarre way of thinking (as my problem is clearly internal and intangible) but I think she didn't want me to think of the task as hopeless - because the depressing reality is if this negativity really is a part of me then it's something I can never get rid of.

Which is something I've considered of course, permanency of the eating disorder that is. It's a daunting possibility. I've heard about those who fight it for the rest of their lives, those who are completely rid of it and those who just give up and give into it. It consumes them. It consumes me. I don't know if I want to be consumed anymore. Don't I want more in life? Didn't I?

Mid year exams has everyone worried for me - which is irritating to no end, although I recognise that times of stress are particularly renowned for triggering relapse or worsening the existing condition, particularly in myself. Everyone has their own idea what's best for me – Itachi wants me to go back to drinking the high calorie shakes, Naruto wants me to study with him so he can monitor me and Tsunade wants to see me three times a week to make sure I'm _coping_.

I just want them to piss off and let me deal with it alone. I've been told I am in a _very delicate phase_, which is probably why they want to cushion me more. It makes me want to splatter my brains over the wall.

I tread lightly down the stairs of my home, careful not to wake Itachi on his day off – there would be hell to pay if I did. I make my way outside where I already know Naruto is waiting to pick me up for school. Today, I think, is a good day.

I can't see where I'll be in five years. Here and healthy or here and sick. Or even if I still have the strength to be here at all - because the harsh reality is that there is a chance I might not be. I figure that I can only fight for what I hope – which has an ever-changing face. Sometimes I want to be better, sometimes I don't. The only thing I know I truly want is for some inner peace. One way or the other.

My mind is tired of war.

* * *

_Something short all the way from Japan. I've had more writing time than I originally thought (it gets dark so early here!). It's something I whipped up on my free nights._

_It's a necessary piece, despite how short it is. Thanks again for all your kind reviews and thoughts._


	10. Blank Canvas

"Quick, he's coming!"

"Did you finish putting the balloons up?!"

"No time for that now, fool! Get behind the couch!"

Rustle, rustle, bang. Pop.

"Oww!"

"You're on my foot!"

"Get off my arm!"

"Shut up!"

Hearing all the commotion from the other side of the front door I hesitated to turn the key, holding it suspended in the lock, wondering if it was worth stepping foot inside or not. In the face of what sounded like a pitiful attempt at a surprise party I leaned slightly more towards the idea of _not_ going inside. I contemplated this for a moment, weighing up my options.

Really, I can imagine now the effort involved on my behalf and it is not particularly appealing. Fake surprise, unwanted hugs and kisses and insincere greetings, music, presents, cheesy decorations and music and lets not forget the cake and candles. Who could forget that? I pondered on this, dread in my belly. On one hand I wanted to get back in my car and drive as far away as possible and not come back till morning - and on the other I wanted to get inside and go into my big warm bed because I was _oh so tired_. It was early in the evening but I was entering the realm of 'beyond exhaustion' with much haste. The very comforting thought of my bed beckoned me.

Maybe I could get away with the headache excuse, an inch of truth always makes the lie harder to spot. They'd believe me –_ Oh don't make yourself sick on our account Sasuke…please, feel free to go to bed._ How I wish that any of them possessed a modicum of mercy.

_Christ,_ I thought to myself while gripping my key, which halfwit, brain-dead moron told them this was a good idea? Maybe it was some sort of joke? I didn't like parties, I didn't like surprises and I hadn't been excited by my birthday since I was 8.

I took a deep breath, hoping for the best and turned the key. Stepping inside into the darkness I slipped off my shoes and took a moment to steady myself (for the social onslaught) before flipping the light switch.

"SURPRISE!!!"

Needless to say, I was not surprised.

My eyes, aching momentarily while adjusting to the change in light were met with an explosion of colour that looked rather out of place in my otherwise dull living room. People of all shapes and sizes jumped out from behind the sofa, the armchairs and (for some reason) the tables, arms waving madly. Balloons and streamers of assorted shapes and colours were stuck to the wall and scattered over the floor and as my eyes roved upwards I noticed a ridiculously large custom banner reading: "_Happy 18__th__ Sasuke_".

The real surprise was that anyone had bothered the effort. Maybe it was some sort of intervention thing.

Before I could utter any words of fake surprise or headache my person was violently assaulted by a hysterical woman who squeezed my torso within an inch of my life. It took me less than two seconds to get over the attack and realise it was only Sakura and this was her normal greeting. It took me another two seconds to wonder why she was here and not four hours away at her home.

"Happy Birthday, Sasuke!" she cried into my chest, crushing my lungs. The rest of my _guests_ were staring expectantly at me, grinning eagerly, wondering if they had succeeded, wondering what my first words would be.

"…You can let go now."

Awkward silence.

"…Oh, right," she stepped back and looked at my face, trying to read my expression with the others. Success? Failure?

Cough. Snicker. Hack.

I looked at them blankly. "Um…how unexpected…"

* * *

"This is where we've put all your presents and this is where dinner is going to be and this is…"

It was five minutes into the celebration and I was already prepared to sneak away to bed. The greetings were painstakingly done, the congratulatory slaps on the back were given and the ear splitting, house thudding music had started. After that Naruto had then taken it upon himself to show me around my home and the things they had done to it - With Itachi's careful supervision of course, as he had said, _"This is a birthday party, not some rave."_

Oh Itachi, you've been out of the loop too long.

The mosaic decorations extended far beyond the living room into the kitchen, dining room, stair rail and downstairs bathroom. Not even the toilet seat was safe. While I secretly thought it was all a bit of an eyesore I was still rather surprised at the effort put into the party, from the oversized mountain of gifts to the banners to the buffet of food that was waiting to be consumed at the dining table. A lot of thought had obviously been put into the cooking – kitsune udon (vegan dashi), tofu soba, plain rice onigiri, vegetable tempura, amongst other dishes. All vegetarian and (relatively) low calorie – I wonder if that was done on purpose, the low calorie bit. Was that to prevent making a scene or a once off compromise? Or both or neither?

"Wow, look at that huge present, who bought you that?" Naruto rambled off distractedly, moving towards and leering jealously at he had been dubbed the 'present table'. "Oh, Shino. Shit, I wonder what's in there…"

He made a move to grab it, no doubt to shake it, before I grabbed his hand, twisting it back slightly.

"_Don't_ even think about it."

He poked his tongue out and frowned. "Why not?"

"It's rude."

He rolled his eyes. As if I hadn't just abused it he interlinked his fingers on the hand I just assaulted with mine and exchanged his frown for a knowing grin, like a child caught out with his hand in the cookie jar. "Fun sucker."

"Yeah, yeah," I sighed, less interested in the gifts than I was the inner workings behind them. "So who's idea was this?"

Not letting go of my hand he pulled me over to a chair and we sat facing each other. Rubbing my cold hands with his own he twisted his mouth side to side as he recalled the perpetrators. "I dunno…I think I thought of it first or maybe it was Kiba or Neji."

"Ah - "

" - No wait, not Neji." He interrupted. "…I don't remember. Haha."

"Aren't you helpful."

"Sorry."

I shook my head and yawned, the artificial warmth bursting from the ducted heating was making me more drowsy, if it were possible. I rubbed my eyes with my free hand, willing myself to stay awake for a little while longer. In retrospect I considered that it probably wouldn't be appropriate if the guest of honour disappeared after five minutes into the festivities. Probably. I wonder if I could….? No. It was a manners thing.

"You tired?" The blond asked softly but loud enough to be heard over the head pounding music. I shook my head again and baby blue eyes looked into mine intently, concerned.

"You staying the night?" I changed the subject.

"Do you want me to?"

"Do you care if I do or don't want you to?"

"Nope."

That was the end of that, as it often was. I yawned again, unintentionally slumping my shoulders as Itachi walked into the room and joined us at the dining table. Suddenly, irrationally, I didn't feel in the mood for my self-imposed In-Home Nurse as buried resentment began to rise to the surface before I could stop it. Naruto raised an eyebrow at my change in demeanour and squeezed my hand tighter.

"How's your day been?" He asked, pouring himself a glass of water from the jug on the table, acting perfectly normal (because he is). "Want one?"

I shook my head no, again rubbing my eyes. "It's been fine."

"How was school?"

"Fine."

"Got homework?"

"No."

The older Uchiha frowned at my uncalled-for, standoffish behaviour and held up a hand to my forehead with professional-like ease. I almost knew what he was going to say before he said it. Concerned face, rigid posture, tight frown - like an open book.

"You're cranky. Have you eaten today?"

"Yes," I snapped, grabbing his wrist and removing his hand from my forehead. I chanced a glance at Naruto who looked torn between amusement at the domestics and looking like he didn't want to get in the middle of it. I didn't blame him.

"I was just asking," the older Uchiha retracted, scowl deepening. If I were to be honest, he probably didn't deserve he rude way in which I was treating him. But my mouth ran away with my frustration before I could catch them.

"No, you were checking," I retorted, knowing I was veering dangerously on the edge of _well you can't exactly be trusted_ territory. That was a whole other argument that had been done to death. It began with me being dubbed untrustworthy and it ended with me needing to regain that trust. How I loathed those stupid, stupid arguments. Nevertheless he threw his hands up in surrender, and looked away from my harsh glare. He wanted to be the adult and stop the fighting before it started. I hated when he did that.

Naruto cleared his throat and fanned his face with a napkin. "Whew, is it warm in here or is it just me…"

With a feeling of unease collecting in my shoulders I grabbed two cucumber sushi rolls and placed them on a plate in front of me, _220 calories_. "Happy?"

He gave a small smile that didn't quite match the look in his eyes and stood up. "I'll leave you guys to it."

With those brief words lingering he walked away towards the front door – probably to have a smoke. I groaned internally at the mini drama I had just created.

The other boy let out a low whistle and gave me a look. "Awkward."

Standing up and stretching I made sure to give him an unimpressed stare. I'd have to sort this out before the night was through, before it morphed into a bigger, uglier drama. I don't think I could be bothered putting up with it. I hated soap operas.

* * *

I closed the front door behind me and wrapped my arms around my trembling frame, despite the still night air. The porch sensor light flicked on and the front yard was illuminated yellow. Just as I'd thought, Itachi was sitting on the highest porch step and was on what looked like his second cigarette – if I couldn't see it I could certainly smell it. I braved sitting next to him without knowing the state of his temper. Fingers and toes crossed. Stay calm, don't get shitty. I cleared my throat.

"……"

"……"

"…Hey…"

"……"

"…Sorry."

"……"

"……"

He let out a smoky breath, dark eyes peering at me from his peripheral vision. "What for?" he asked testily. No shouting yet, so far so good.

"Being a headcase."

He let out a low laugh and flicked the excessive ash from his cancer stick. "You're not a headcase, Sasuke."

I refrained from scoffing. "That's debatable." I once didn't brush my teeth for nearly a week because I was convinced that there were calories in the toothpaste. Another time I locked myself in my room all day and night because I got the sudden idea that there were calories in the air (I hadn't slept or eaten for two days and was quite delirious). I wasn't in a straitjacket yet but there was no point in trying to convince me that I had a clean bill either.

"So, no more animosity?"

"Yeah, yeah."

Short and sweet. After all, neither of us had any use in getting caught with grudges for such pedantic matters. Maybe when we were younger but now it wasn't important. He ruffled the back of my hair affectionately; heartily ignoring the look he received for doing so. "You look like shit," he commented while putting out his cigarette. "Why don't you go to bed?"

"What, and miss the cake?" I asked sarcastically, standing up. Following my movements, Itachi brushed the dirt off his work pants and giving me a strange look. He commented on my morbid sense of humour.

I shrugged and we headed back inside. Disaster averted.

* * *

"No, you're not listening to me. That new kid is a chick!" argued the boy with tattooed cheeks, pounding a fist on the table.

"He's a boy," drawled the pony-tailed teen, resting his face in his palm.

"Girl!"

"Hermaphrodite?" offered another.

"……"

"That's _so_ politically incorrect…"

I resisted the incredibly strong desire to roll my eyes at the uncouth display of simultaneous eating and talking. I was almost impressed by their ability to do both at the same time without _all_ their food falling from their mouths – but then I remembered the concept of table manners and found it a bit vulgar. Table manners are important; it's a sign of a good upbringing and a sure indicator you're not a complete delinquent. I wasn't a complete delinquent.

No, I was just a moody, broody antisocial teenager with mental problems, but it all evens out I think.

I picked at the slice of vanilla flavoured cake sitting delicately on the plastic plate in front of me, wondering why I was still awake. Today had been a good day, food wise, mind wise. I was coping, I was dealing. Not to say that it was easy or that I didn't feel bad. In fact I felt horrible but I was well equipped to rationalise it out and put up with it today.

With my easily breakable plastic fork I broke off tiny pieces of the calorie laden sweet no bigger than glorified crumbs, putting them in my mouth and chewing. I'd scraped off all the icing, refused whip cream and I didn't even need to make up an excuse why I was eating it as if it was laced with poison.

For once there wasn't any arguments, no _can't you just try, just another mouthful please Sasuke_. I'd received plenty of encouraging smiles (which was slightly irksome) and a little less staring than usual, which was a change - pleasant and strange. I recalled Tsunade's advice from a session early this week.

_You're allowed to celebrate your birthday, Sasuke. You won't gain weight from eating sweets, I promise. Like everyone else, it's all about moderation. Don't beat yourself up over it, okay?_

Yet sitting here doing normal things, being treated like I was normal I wanted nothing more than to run upstairs and throw up all the contents of stomach to get rid of this feeling – and it made me feel as guilty as sin for even thinking it. Guilty for pretending to play happy, pretending to celebrate the fact that I was born, guilty for pretending I'm okay with appetizers and cake, guilty for indulging in them. Isn't 7 months of head shrinking supposed to fix that or something? Why can't I shake it off?

Tsunade was supposed to be my voice of reason amongst the voice of crazy but her rationalizing and logic thought didn't always apply to how I was feeling. Is that supposed to be one of those independent learning things where I was meant to sort through it myself and come up with the solution?

My attention slipped from these thoughts when my left shin was abruptly kicked. I turned my head in the direction and offered a raised eyebrow to Gaara, too lazy to form the words.

"Are we keeping you up?"

I shook my head no (was it really that obvious?). "Didn't you have to work tonight?" I asked, changing the subject, distracting both him and myself. Family business.

He shook his head and cleared his throat, placing his fork neatly on his plate. "Temari covered."

"How sweet," I replied wryly, knowing what that meant. "What's the catch?"

"Cake. Lots of it."

"Have at it."

"Kankuro wanted to come too," he continued, twisting his mouth distastefully at the thought of having his older brother tag along to a social gathering. I raised an eyebrow curiously.

"Changed his mind?"

He let out a low snort, picking up his fork again, stabbing a helpless half eaten slice of cake. "I told him we'd be playing musical chairs and truth or dare. He suddenly remembered something else he had to do. "

I smirked at his tactful avoidance of Big Brother Embarrassment, an experience I'm sure we often shared. With Kankuro's eccentricity and Itachi's old-fashioned sensibility they could certainly be considered a red-face inducing duo. I nodded my approval at his strategic prevention of public humiliation.

I am quite glad they never became friends.

"Oi," spoke Naruto to my right, poking my rib with one finger and pointing to my barely touched cake with the other. "Can I eat yours?"

I looked at the gluttonous boy from the corner of my eye, watching him pout while eyeing my fluffy sweet. I pretended to consider it for a moment.

"Hmm…" I murmured, putting a finger to my chin thoughtfully and just at the very moment he turned face became eager I went in for the kill. "Nope, sorry. I'm _starving_," I exaggerated and put a hand on my stomach.

His face dropped. "Prick."

I smirked and continued to eat the cake crumbs at my previously painfully slow pace. Although I never finished the whole slice I didn't throw up what I had eaten either, but God I'd wanted to like an itch I couldn't scratch. In letting some of my control go I never got rid of the feeling of guilt and indulgence (although it eased) – but most importantly the world didn't fall apart and the sky didn't fall down. Exhale.

* * *

"Happy Birthday, Sasuke."

I bowed, "Thank you for the gifts," I repeated for the nth time that night as the last of our guests left, Naruto waved and Itachi moved back inside and began the mammoth task of cleaning. Seeing the last drive off (like a good host) I closed the door behind us and joined Itachi, who was adding all the plastic utensils to a rapidly growing bag of garbage. Joining him, we tried to help. He shook us off.

"Don't worry about it, go to bed."

I refused, pouring remaining liquids into the kitchen sink and throwing out the plastic cups. This was another one of those manners things – Never leave one person to pick up after everyone else. Naruto followed suit, wrapping the leftover food in plastic and putting them away where they belonged.

"It's a school night," he insisted.

"We've got a late start tomorrow, it's fine. It's quicker this way."

And that was the end of that. We worked in silence for the next ten or so minutes, throwing away wrapping paper, half eaten food, rearranging the furniture until everything was back to normal. Once we were all satisfied that the job was done we said our goodnights and headed to our respective rooms. I knew Itachi had an early start and was just as eager to knock off as we were.

Closing my bedroom door behind us Naruto let out a big yawn. I undressed, leaving myself in a black wife beater and boxers, the night was rapidly cooling, I crawled under the covers.

There was a chill in the room, I noticed, turning my head I discovered I'd left the window open this morning.

"Close the window," I ordered the other boy absentmindedly, making sure my pillow was shaped properly, manners left downstairs. He scoffed at me but did it anyway and the room temperature slowly began to stabilise.

"Anything else, Princess?" He asked mockingly. I ignored him and turned to face the wall, my body giving up on caring. I felt the mattress dip behind me and a body settle next to me, shuffling here and there until it became comfortable.

"God, how do you sleep with all these blankets on you?" He complained, twisting his body to find a cool spot on the bed and throwing the blankets off himself. I hummed my amusement at his discomfort, too tired to from any real words. I was seemingly having trouble keeping my eyes open.

"You falling asleep?" He asked after a few minutes, voice clear in the otherwise silent room. I shifted deeper under the covers and tried to drown out his voice, wondering what the time was. Oh the joy of having an obnoxious boyfriend who unabashedly invites himself over - Why was he talking?

"Sasuke?"

"Mmm…"

"Are you falling asleep?" He repeated, louder. I gave up and shifted around to face him. I glared at his stupid face but the bags under my eyes significantly lessened the impact. It had nothing to do with his proclaimed immunity.

"Why?" I asked groggily, voice thickening with fatigue. "Did we forget to braid each others hair and paint each others nails?"

"No, we'll do that next time. I know how you like your nails to be all pretty."

I grunted in annoyance. "It was black marker and I was bored in class. I'm not telling you again."

"Sure, sure," he teased, grinning widely, "Maybe I should've paid for you to get a manicure instead."

I pinched the skin on his arm closest to me roughly (because reaching over further meant more effort). "Do you _want_ to sleep on the floor?"

"You're so mean to me." I didn't even have to look at him to know that he was pouting. The chill of the room set in and I suppressed a shiver. Instead I took his share of the blankets, throwing them over me in haphazard heap of cotton, down and silk. Oh that was better. "So…did you have a good night?"

"Mmm," I replied vaguely for him to interpret however he wished. The warmth of the added layers had begun to lull my already exhausted body into a state of semi-sleep. Just a few more minutes.

"Did we really surprise you?"

"Mmm."

"So you wont kill us?"

I turned over so I was again facing the wall in my regular sleeping position. "Next time," I mumbled into my pillow. The mattress springs creaked and suddenly Narutos reliably warm body was pressed against my back. A kiss was placed on the nape of my neck and my skin tingled.

"G'night."

The heavy weight of exhaustion took over my body and I think I might have muttered something incoherent back but I don't remember. It was the first time in a long while that I went to sleep, not plagued by thoughts of the day.

I still felt remnants of the negative feelings from earlier, which I knew wouldn't disappear – but I think I'm maybe okay with that. I knew, in a more equal part of my mind that things wouldn't fall apart. This was my control.

Black sleep claimed me faster than it had in a long time.

* * *

_This is most probably going to be the _**second last**_ chapter of Orexis. Probably. I might get sudden inspiration and feel that this is not finished, but for now I absolutely feel that a transition is in order and this chapter basic function is to serve as a blank canvas for the upcoming transition. _

_There will absolutely be a sequel, maybe a one-shot so look out for it._


	11. After All

"_My god! people say. You have so much self-control! And later: My god. You're so, so sick. When people say this, they turn their heads, you've won your little game. You have proven your thesis that no-body-loves-me-every-body-hates-me, guess-I'll-just-eat-worms. You get to sink back into your hospital bed, shrieking with righteous indignation. See? you get to say. I knew you'd give up on me. I knew you'd leave." _

_- __Wasted, Marya Hornbacher_

* * *

Today had not been what I would label a good day.

It began with a set of numbers. Even though they were only numbers to others, to me they had been conditioned to equate to my sense of worth and self image. I can see how no one could possibly understand that, I still don't remember how it became that way.

I don't think I could begin to, or even be able to adequately describe the feeling of being a prisoner within your own skin with no way out. How does one describe hating the flesh that you see hanging off you and somehow linking it to your own self worth, how your own body becomes the enemy? Hating yourself because you can't get rid of your own repulsiveness, because it becomes your all-consuming obsession, because you can't make it go away and you hurt everyone you know in the process.

What's more is that the way you affect others pales in comparison in the pursuit of the only thing that matters anymore. You become so blind sighted it's the only thing you can see. Numbers. Thin. Nothing. Recovery is like some far off nightmare in which everyone wants you to be the failure you are secretly terrified of being.

Curled under my blankets, I reflected on what my definition of recovery was. A year ago I would have said that recovery would be reaching my goal weight, being thin enough and then I'd stop and there'd be nothing to worry about - now I wasn't sure. Being in the medical system so long gave me a new definition of recovery – being able to function and _cope_ in everyday life while maintaining a healthy weight, free from the vices of an eating disorder. But that, too, seemed like some far off fairy tale spewed by professionals to provide hope to families and sufferers.

A healthy (fat) weight and coping seemed as oxymoronic to me as depression and happiness. It often didn't seem achievable. I didn't know what to think anymore. I was tired of thinking in the same loop over and over.

This morning, to my horror, I had noticed that I gained my first two kilograms (that could not be pegged up to water weight) since being in voluntary recovery. My reaction to this gain was far from any psychological standard or definition of _coping_.

Beyond feeling any scrap of concern if anyone heard or saw me, I'd immediately gotten down on my hands and knees and purged the cereal I'd eaten for breakfast until nothing but my own disgusting bile would come up. The effects on my body had been instantaneous – Dizzy, shaky and hundreds of small red flecks could be seen around my eyes. The blood vessels around my eyes had burst like red stars against my pale face and I hated myself for it. They wouldn't disappear for a couple of days.

As soon as I spied the broken capillaries I'd immediately felt regretful and stupid that I'd given in again. In one moment I was angry, _enraged_ with myself for allowing myself to gain weight. _You are disgusting_. The next I was just as angry, for completely different reasons. _How could you do this to yourself again?_

The act of eating itself is not nearly as large a sin as gaining weight is. It was directly linked with failure, self-deprecation and the never ceasing fact that I alone had done all this to myself.

It seemed that all my time in therapy had not prepared me to deal with this - In those moments I'd grown mad, furious. I'd spent everyday for the past ten months actively fighting against this _thing_, having people tell me of the so called _progress_that I'd made, spending every waking moment in exhausting internal warfare. For what? So I could still be as disgusted with myself as I was a year ago? Was I really still in the same headspace I was a year ago? Two years ago? I couldn't remember. I can't remember. It's all a blur. My head was spinning.

Satisfied that everything had been sufficiently heaved out of my stomach, I'd gone back into my room and decided quickly that it probably was not within my best interests to go to school today. I'd immediately set about exercising until my body couldn't stand it anymore, my self-hate the only fuel my body had to run on. I'd known I was doing wrong, but I didn't want to stop just yet.

It wasn't until two hours later, heavily fatigued and half-asleep in bed that I had really questioned what I had done.

What in the world had I been thinking?

Was this really what I wanted for myself until the day I died?

Were one or two kilograms really worth the mental torment and painful physical limits I had pushed myself to?

The worst part of it was that I knew I was still quite underweight and that, logically, the gained weight couldn't have made a difference to my appearance. But it wasn't even about how I looked anymore. Therapy had forced me to observe how every aspect of the eating disorder was attached to my fears, insecurities, and feelings. Weight with failure, food with the feelings I couldn't deal with, appearance with my pitiful self-esteem.

When the initial panic had passed, the more logical part of me could recognize that gaining weight wasn't going backwards. What I had just done was going backwards – and it hit me like a ton of bricks. Maybe the most depressing part of it all was that I didn't know how, or if I could stop it, despite acknowledging it. I just knew, despite whether or not I had the capacity to, that I had to stop it. Because I think I wanted to.

Drawing my knees to my chest in a fetal position I stared at the old family photo on the dresser next to my bed, suddenly feeling a deep longing clutch at my chest painfully.

I didn't get out of bed for the rest of the day.

* * *

When my phone broke into song next to my ear and abruptly woke me sometime in the afternoon I thought it was my alarm waking me up. It took me a few seconds, but then I realized I hadn't set my alarm to begin with and that someone must be calling me. Sigh.

With difficulty in gathering enough stamina, I thought I should maybe answer. Reaching over to the incredibly loud source of noise I made sure to read the caller ID before answering, silently glad that it was only Naruto and not the school asking about my attendance. I flipped the phone open and rubbed my eyes with my free hand.

"Speak," I greeted groggily.

"Sasuke?" Came his loud voice from the other end, which, strangely, was louder than the ring tone. I put my phone on speaker, placing it on the pillow, too tired to be bothered holding it up to my ear. That would have required extra effort.

"Yes, loser."

"Where are you?"

I winced at the volume of both his voice and the background noise and turned it down a few bars. "Home," I yawned, glancing over to my alarm clock. It was mid-afternoon. I tried to justify my incredibly lazy extended nap by saying that I needed to catch up on sleep anyway. It didn't quite work.

"Why?"

My insides felt a chill at the thoughts and memories of this morning, of how I'd damaged any real beneficial progress I'd ever made. I said the first thing that came to my mind. "I'm sick."

"That sucks," he replied sympathetically. I nodded to myself, agreeing with this sentiment. "Like the flu?"

"Migraine. Made me throw up this morning," I lied.

"Again? Man, you should get that checked out."

I grunted dismissively. "It's genetic. My mother used to get them too," I recalled, finally spitting out something honest, looking over again at the photograph on the dresser trying to ignore the feeling in my chest.

"Ah…" he trailed off softly, probably not knowing what to say to that.

"Doesn't matter," I said, wanting to change the subject. "Shouldn't you be in class?"

"It's Thursday. I'm on my free period, remember?"

"Yeah, sure," I muttered, still too sleepy to have any recollection of such facts like that it was Thursday. Since when did he have a free period anyway? He was probably just skipping class, that liar.

"So, anyhoo," he continued, "I was thinking, now I know it's not anything contagious, that I should pop over after school's out."

Oh god no. Today was not a good day. Today I couldn't gather enough h energy to get out of bed let alone play host. Today was probably not the best day for company because having no food in your stomach and self-discovery was exhausting. "No, really, you don't have to -"

"Great!" he interrupted as if I hadn't said anything, "See you then!"

"Wait -"

"Bye!"

The line went dead and I groaned, throwing my phone to the other side of the room, refusing to answer the traitorous device again should it ever ring on this day.

Today is not a good day.

* * *

By the time Naruto had screeched into my driveway later that afternoon I still hadn't found the will or energy to remove myself from my deliciously warm bed. Mostly out of laziness than anything else exciting like mental torment. Oh and the fact that my body had nothing to run on, that too. On the other hand I supposed being completely pathetic supported my boo-hoo sick story, so I should stick with it.

It was dead quiet before I heard the blond boy let himself in the house (I wasn't quite sure when he'd got his own key) with a none-too-gentle slam of the front door. This audible disturbance was quickly followed by heavy thuds on the carpeted stairs and a long string of violent curses. Moments later my bedroom door flew open and revealed a sweaty, red-faced Naruto with his hands full of heavy-looking, on-the-brink-of-bursting plastic bags. Staring, dazed, I made no move to help.

"Ungh," Naruto complained, dragging himself towards forward and setting the bags on the end of the bed. "Don't even ask," he commented, spying my raised eyebrow. Without an inch of delicacy the younger boy jumped onto the next to his bags, making the mattress rock.

"Dumbass," I muttered as the giant padding beneath me moved.

From what I could see at this angle underneath my blankets he shot a mockingly angry look in return. "Bitch. I assume you don't want anything from my bag of goodies then?"

I fought down a snicker at his childish phrasing. "Bag of …goodies?"

He grinned widely, all teeth bared, and dug into the bag closest to him eager to show off his _goodies_. "Let's see…we've got aspirin, paracetamol and…" he trailed off, pulling each item out for exhibition while reading their labels, "…we've also got ibuprofen. What else, what else….oh yes, paracetamol with _codeine…_ how fancy, I scored that one off Jiraiya…"

Amused, I pulled myself into a sitting position and continued to watch Naruto pull out items from the bag as if it were bottomless. "Did you rob a pharmacy?"

"Pretty much," he laughed. When I realized he'd actually spent his hard earned money on something I'd lied about I felt a little guilty. A little. I think it was guilt but it might have been nausea. "How's the head?"

"Much the same," I lied. He gave me a sympathetic look. My insides cringed.

"This probably won't help but Kiba told me to remind you about your final History test tomorrow."

My insides twisted even more. Sighing, I flopped back down to lie on my pillow and drew my blankets around me again until I was cocooned. In the midst of my existential angst I'd forgotten about that particularly unpleasant detail. The loud teen laughed from the other end.

"Not ready?"

I snorted confidently, hoping he'd buy it. "Piece of cake."

He didn't buy it, apparently. That annoyed me because facades take effort that I didn't quite have at the moment - I was stretching beyond my resources already. While echoing my snort (in a most disbelieving manner) he crawled over the bed to lie beside me, smiling. I frowned at his refusal to believe my believable performance.

Who said the idiot could get on my bed anyway?

"Nervous?"

"No."

I felt his hot breath on my face and baby blues peering earnestly into my own, trying to read me. God I hated when he did that. I looked away uncomfortably, resisting the urge to kick him.

"So then… what's up?" Smile fading.

"Nothing," I assured, sounding as annoyed as I possibly could without guilt creeping into my voice. Couldn't he mind his own business just this once?

"Okay," he said softly, and I was relieved. "Where's Itachi?" He asked, suddenly changing the subject as he inspected his watch.

I rolled onto my back and stared at the dull white ceiling, folding my hands behind my head. "Working late." Next to me, he hummed low in his chest.

"_So_…" he began, flipping onto his back as well, mirroring my actions and putting his arms behind his head, "…wanna talk about it?"

I snapped my head to glare at the unrelenting idiot as my stomach tied itself into a hundred painful knots. Or maybe that was just the hunger. "About what?"

He only smiled kindly, knowingly, infuriatingly. I wanted to punch the stupid expression off his face. "Same shit?" He offered, in lieu of my silence as if I wasn't death-glaring him into oblivion. Oblivious fool who knew too much.

I let out a long breath through my clenched teeth, not entirely comfortable with how well he knew me, unsure if I was comforted or nervous that he did. Maybe it was okay that he did. After all, who else if not him or Itachi? "Different day," I finished.

"That's okay, isn't it?"

I frowned. _No it's not_.

"I mean, you're different now," he reasoned, spotting my less than impressed look.

I frowned, confused, shuffling onto my side to face him properly. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean, like from last year. Or the year before. You're different."

I scowled at his pleasantries but didn't correct him. The words were nice enough to hear but I had more than serious doubts about their truthfulness - After all they might as well be worthless for all the truth that he knew. I think I was disappointed with myself for being such a fraud to those closest to me, feeling fake left a sour taste. I wanted for him to get as angry with me as I was with myself, for being deceitful, for being weak. Get angry with me.

"I threw up today," I blurted out, testing the waters and watching his reaction carefully. He just twisted his mouth, confused.

"I know, you told me, remember?"

I shook my head, frustrated. Idiot. "On purpose."

"Oh…" He shrugged, looking over to me blankly. "…Well, we all have bad days."

I stared at him, expecting (wanting) yelling, shouting, disappointment._ We all have bad days? _"You're not pissed?"

"Why should I be?"

"You always are."

"Yeah, when I catch you red-handed," he said with an odd calmness uncharacteristic of him. "It's gotta mean somethin' if you're telling me, right?"

I hummed vague agreement, pondering on these words but letting it drop. Had I really come as long away as he had said or was that just a testament to how good my disguise was?

I had to consider more on _what_ my so-called disguise was and if I was really disguising anything anymore. After all, don't I make my support system aware of my tougher days, like today? Didn't I just come clean about the fact that I'd lied and purged? Wasn't that a testament to any progress I might have made, rather than mistakes ands setbacks everyone is capable of making? That I actually had recognized them as mistakes?

I was not nearly rid of these negative feelings towards food, of the distorted perceptions of myself and the need to control my environment. But looking back, I can see with some clarity the pro-active efforts that I'd made to pick myself up when I'd fallen. In the end I was still dragging myself to therapy, committed to sticking to it despite my bad days, putting up the good fight and all that rubbish despite the fact it would be so much easier to give in. Wasn't the small, blossoming desire to self nurture rather than destroy an indicator of steps forward? Maybe.

"I'm staying the night by the way," Naruto's voice cut through the silence like a knife through butter.

"Whatever."

Neither of us spoke for while, listening to the crickets buzz and hum as the evening approached and the skies darkened. My room smelled musty, I noticed, remembering that I failed to open my window.

"So…" Naruto started in a sly tone that I didn't care for, his eyebrows wiggling obscenely.

"…What?"

Warm fingers found their way under my shirt and started stroking my side, slowly, sensually. I wanted to smack the stupid smirk off his face. I think I might.

"Itachi won't be home till late?"

I grabbed the hand sexually assaulting my stomach and threw it back to him. "Yeah right. I need at least two coffees and toast before I can begin to function."

"Spoilsport," The other pouted. The proverbial light bulb flashed over his head as his face suddenly changed. "Don't forget I'm taking you to therapy tomorrow, remind me."

Spoilsport.

* * *

Itachi had forecasted his late return home correctly; as late evening approached it was still only Naruto and I in the house. It at least gave me time to prepare us all some dinner.

Luckily two coffees and a slice of toast after getting out of bed I was well and truly able to do something resembling living. I was swift in throwing together a quick and easy vegetable soup to be ready before he came home. The kitchen was immediately filled with the aromatic smells of the various vegetables being boiled alive. It made my stomach grumble in an embarrassingly loud manner.

"So," I began while throwing salt into the bubbling meal. "What was in the other bags?"

I heard a snicker come from beside me as he blonde came up to add a pinch of pepper to the pot. "Handcuffs, blindfolds, whips. You know, the usual."

"Hilarious," I replied tonelessly, giving the mix the obligatory every-ten-minute-stir.

"…I wasn't kidding."

Nerves frayed from the trying day, I nearly dropped the wooden spoon in the boiling pot. Gripping the cooking utensil that _little bit tighter_ I sent a short, irritated glare at the blond dunce in my kitchen. Who said he could help anyway?

"Okay, I was kidding."

I didn't answer.

Cough. "…You know I was kidding right?"

I lowered the heat on the stove and left it to simmer.

"….Bastard?"

"I know," I said, rubbing my face in fatigue. "Just tired."

"Go to bed," he suggested, moving away from the pot to sit on a stool at the bench. I shook my head and ran a hand through my hair. I couldn't possibly sleep after the nap of all naps I had taken today.

"Can't. You're not capable of finishing this soup on your own." I sighed as if a great injustice had been bestowed upon me.

"Thanks," Naruto scowled and folded his arms over his chest, acting stubborn as he persisted. "How hard can it be? Stir it every ten minutes for the next half hour then turn the heat off. Easy." He poked out his tongue as if this would prove his culinary worthiness. It didn't.

"You can't even make toast," I scoffed.

"Could too."

I smirked, knowingly. He pouted. "Could not."

I could almost see the cogs turning in his head as his face flushed an angry pink. "I can make it better than you!" he challenged.

"You wish."

The next half hour was spent in what would come to be known as the incident where we wasted an entire loaf of bread trying to out-toast the other. When Itachi had come home he thought it was all dipping bread for the soup.

We didn't correct him.

Thoughts of the earlier day gone, I thanked the higher beings for routine.

* * *

By the end of the next day I was well and truly worn out to the point of dropping dead without a care of where and how.

I had barely got up early enough in time for school, kicked Naruto out of bed (literally) and made a mad dash to the institution (while simultaneously trying to study). I only just scraped through my History test (anxiety), stuttered through lunch (fear) and was now sitting in the waiting room at the Konoha East Medical centre (boredom). The day's events didn't particularly put me in the caring and sharing mood – which was unfortunate as I was due for my weekly therapy session.

Tsunade was, as usual, late for the appointment I noticed as 4:12 ticked onto the wall clock. Nevertheless I continue to show up on time, week after week, hoping that some day she might get off her chair and do the same, to no avail. Oh well. Any minute now.

I picked up a thick, glossy magazine from the table. That's exactly what crazy people needed – boring reading material. Before I had resigned myself to flipping through the six month old medical magazine my busty therapist emerged from her office and pointed a finger at me, causing some of the other people in the waiting room to stare.

"Sasuke, you're up."

Throwing down the unopened magazine on the centre table I followed her into her office, sitting down on my usual chair opposite her. She smiled at me, inspecting my appearance as she set her notebook and pen on her lap. Straight into it today it would seem. She probably wanted to go home early.

"So, how are you?"

"I'm fine."

"You're looking tired today, Sasuke."

"I'm fine," I dismissed, clearing my throat and buttoning my blazer. While I didn't want to talk about it, I appreciated her honesty. Too many times had I gone to a shrink with bags under my eyes, splotchy skin and with the shakes for them to tell me I _looked well this week_. I didn't like bullshit and neither did she. That's why I she'd earned at least an inch of my respect.

"How's school?" She asked, eyeing my uniform, putting a stray lock of blonde hair behind her ear.

"It's fine."

"Yeah? Must be hard to give yourself a break in your final year?"

I shrugged. "I guess."

"Alright," she said, shifting in her seat and making herself comfortable for the next 50 minutes. "How's life at home going?"

"It's fine," I repeated. Mundane, mundane, mundane. I didn't mean to be difficult; I just didn't want to get into this today. I wanted to go home, study and pass out in bed in that order.

Tsunade hummed low in her throat and tapped her pen against her cheek, looking at me appraisingly. "Not very talkative today, are we?"

"I'm tired," I dismissed, not realizing that I'd cornered myself until I'd said until I said it. The woman is crafty and is too good at her job.

"Hmm," she smiled. "I can see you're not in the mood for small chat today, Sasuke, so how about we cut to it shall we?"

I hummed my agreement, thinking that forming real words over the next hour might prove to be too much effort. Sitting stationary it set in on how well and truly exhausted I was.

"Great. How's your eating this week?"

I stared at a poster behind her promoting Depression Awareness Week for two years ago, wondering why they decided to use a smiling model. "Good. Bad."

She jotted this down on her notepad, not at all disconcerted by my lack of a substantial answer. "M'kay, why was it bad?" she probed. I wondered vaguely if she got annoyed at having to constantly provoke an elaborative answer from me. On second thought I got thinking that I probably wasn't the only patient she had to prod. I've seen some of the nut jobs that go here and I was the common cold compared to their pneumonia.

I looked down at my hands, suddenly finding my nails interesting. "I purged yesterday."

She remained expressionless; this wasn't anything new for us. "Can I ask why?"

I frowned and tried to think of an answer of why I thought it appropriate to vomit up my food. "Had to."

"Ah. Why's that?"

"I-", I stopped; I clenched my fists as a feeling of fierce shame swam through my stomach. "I gained weight."

Why was it so much easier to tell her that I'd purged than I had gained weight?

A look of understanding washed over face and she smiled sympathetically, setting down her fountain pen. "I see. How did that make you feel?"

"Like shit."

"What was going through your mind?"

I furrowed my brow, trying to recall what exactly I had been thinking to justify my frenzy and exhaled noisily. "That I was disgusting, I'd ruined everything." _I'd failed_.

We both knew there wasn't any point in her trying to tell me that I still looked thin and I was still underweight and one or two kilograms wouldn't make a difference. We both knew it wasn't about that. We knew that it only had to do with my epic struggle of self-esteem and that weight gain was nothing more than failure on my behalf in my twisted little world. In the eyes of others the weight gain of someone with an eating disorder was a great success. To the sufferer it only served to emphasize how repulsive they were and how no effort would ever be good enough.

"How are you feeling about it now?"

"Better. I'm coping better."

"That's good," she replied, continuing to write my responses down. "So why was it a good week?"

"I realized I don't want to go backwards."

"I see," she murmured, continuing to write at a furious pace. "That's great Sasuke."

"Hmm…" I murmured. Still teetering on the fragility of this new desire I felt an unpleasantly warm nervousness.

"But you're still feeling guilty?"

I sighed. "Yeah…"

* * *

"I'll see you next week, Sasuke." She called back, waving. Her receptionist, Shizune, smiled at me from behind her desk as I left the centre. I didn't reciprocate – If I had to display another ounce of emotion I thought I might involuntarily be sick over their plush carpet. I walked out of the centre and into the modest car park, which was mostly empty save for the cars of the staff and the yellow embarrassment that was Naruto's means of transportation. Oh _god_.

Sauntering over to the beast I peered inside to find Naruto with his feet up on the dash, flipping through some dirty magazine. I knocked on the window abruptly, startling him and indicated for him to unlock the passengers' side. Once he'd allowed me access he put his hand over his heart and gave me a glare as I seated myself inside.

"You scared the _shit_ out of me, Bastard!"

I only smirked as I loosened my school tie. He leaned over and gave a quick kiss to welcome me back from the hellish depths of therapy. He turned his key in the ignition and after his sixth consecutive try the car roared into life and we were off, the building fading into the distance. A noise erupted from the Embarrassment. "What's that beeping?" I asked offhandedly.

"Dunno," he replied, hitting his dashboard trying to make it stop - unsuccessfully. "So, how was it?"

I wound down my window for some fresh air after securing my seat belt. "Meh."

"Just meh?"

"Pretty much."

"Did you tell her about yesterday?"

"Yes mother," I drawled, wishing the subject would go away already, while pulling out a foam cup from beneath me that I hadn't realized I was sitting on. I threw it in the back seat, scrunching up my nose at the smell of sour milk.

"Don't get shitty," the other boy said wearily, pulling up at a traffic light. "I was just asking."

_Checking_, I corrected silently. The car was noiseless for a few moments (his radio had stopped working two months ago) before we were given the green light and were free to cross the intersection. The engine protested rather loudly to this motion. The truth was that the therapy session was more emotionally draining then it usually should be.

Tsunade had pounced upon my new found inspiration like a lion on a carcass; we'd spent the rest of the hour trying to eradicate guilt and developing safety nets so this desire to go forward would stick like glue. I was as drained as I would be after a workout but it was a good fatigue. Although it frightened me somewhat to be in this unfamiliar headspace, I knew I had to work hard at maintaining it. In these small moments when I felt at least momentarily free of the shackles of my eating disorder I knew it was what I wanted. Maybe not what my eating disorder wanted me to want, but what Sasuke wants.

"…you're not shitty are you?" He asked cautiously, slowing down as we entered suburbia as per the speed limit.

I observed the teen from the corner of my eye and was reminded of how insecure he really was behind what he let on. I knew him well too.

I probably owed him a little bit of mercy – he was driving me home after all. "No. I'm just tired."

I was getting sick of saying that.

"You're always tired," he complained, turning a hard right as we navigated through the streets.

"I know."

"Well stop it."

I didn't even bother to respond to that. "Shut up and I'll make you some Inari-zushi when we get home."

"W-what?! Out of your own free will?" he asked incredulously, before turning concerned and putting his spare hand on my forehead. "You're not sick are you?"

I held up a hand to my mouth and I almost laughed, recalling a similar conversation we had a couple of years ago.

It was than I realized as I remembered this, while I was still far from mental health, how far I'd really come since then.

I elbowed his ribs to stop his mollycoddling.

"No, I'm not sick. Your brain is just broken."

"Huh?... You sure you're not sick?"

Behind my hand, the corners of my mouth twitched upwards. "I'll be fine."

Because really, in the end, I think I hoped I would be.

* * *

**A/N:**This is the final chapter of Orexis. It's very depressing to finish it due to the emotional investment I've put into it, but I think it's crucial to end it here. Sasuke is transitioning. Look out for the sequel, it will be called **Peina**, and that will be the final component of the Leptos Universe. Aww.

Thank you very much to all my readers and reviewers who've stuck with me, you've made it a pleasure.


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